


Glitter, Glamour, and Ties

by SKayLanphear



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, OCD, Pining, Pole Dancing, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, ereri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 95,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5190647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKayLanphear/pseuds/SKayLanphear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren hadn't imagined he'd be making a living as a stripper. And Levi hadn't been expecting to be attracted to a celebrity pole dancer at a local club. Having just been hired as a Vice CEO, there's money to be spent on glittery extracurriculars. However, despite how Levi tries to find out the identity of the infamous dancer, the answer might be sitting just under his nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Company Stripper

He didn't have real inclination to celebrate. But Petra and Isabel had insisted, stating that, as his two best female friends, it was their responsibility to ensure he made good of his situation when it was appropriate. And a new job – a high ranking, vice CEO job – was what they considered to fall under that category. Thus, despite how he'd said he wasn't going to go, they were now forcing him down one of Los Vegas' main runways, talking excitedly as he dragged his feet behind.

"Don't look so worried," Petra tried to soothe, her hand placed on his shoulder only momentarily – a comforting gesture? "I've checked out all the best and asked for all the rules. It's totally clean, I promise. You'd be surprised how high class these kind of things actually are."

"I wouldn't be," he replied coldly. "I'm perfectly aware of how they are. That doesn't mean I have any more inclination to go."

"Don't be such a wet blanket!" Isabel slapped him on the back then, her smile wide as he turned up to stare at her disapprovingly. "You're almost thirty-two Levi, and you haven't dated since you broke up with Ian. Have a little fun!"

"Maybe this isn't my definition of fun," he said flatly.

"You'll have fun," Petra assured easily. "Just wait and see." It was difficult for Levi, that was, to be negative when both Petra and Isabel had such optimistic, cheerful dispositions. Though Isabel was a little more confident and abrupt in her good humor, Petra could be just as forceful, though in a quieter way. Both donning red hair – though different hues respectively – they were as similar as they were different.

"Look, there it is," Isabel pointed out, her pigtails making her seem even more juvenile. "The 'Gentleman's Gentleman.'" Levi had to use all his control not to comment on how stupid the name was. "Hurry, it looks like it's pretty crowded already." There were a good few people standing outside, seemingly taking breaks, already. And it was only seven-thirty.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Levi mumbled as he straightened the collar of his shirt (because it was, apparently, a requirement of the club that everyone look nice). Even Petra and Isabel were done up in tasteful dresses and heels.

"Stop being so negative about it and just have a little fun," Petra tried again to ease him into the idea. However, despite his objections, he was there, so the two women weren't really all that worried. If he'd really been against it, they knew him well enough to realize he'd have just refused to go. They'd deal with his mumbling gladly – at least until he started having a good time. It was his night, after all, or so they'd both determined.

Standing outside the gaudy, brightly lit building with male silhouettes on each side of the door, they approached the bouncer – a large, oddly friendly looking man who smiled when Isabel addressed him.

"Just make sure you can cover the surcharge and follow the rules," he explained after Isabel questioned him. "They're posted on the menus and on the walls." And they could tell, despite his easy attitude, that he wouldn't hesitate to kick out  _anyone_  who broke the laws of the club, and the city.

Sighing, Levi trailed both Petra and Isabel inside, his eyes only scanning the vicinity vaguely as the club opened up to them. After all, it wasn't like he'd never been to a strip club before. He'd been to quite a few back when he was a more reckless individual. And Levi wasn't the type to ever be impressed by something he'd already seen.

"We'll pay for you," Petra assured him as they went up to the front counter. The club was generously sized, spread out in a dark red haze of dim lighting. Other than the stage of course, where a man half-dressed as a policeman was hopelessly attempting to pull off a move Levi had seen done better many times before. Petra insisted he had high standards, but it wasn't his fault he demanded the best.

There were tables set up across the whole spread, a bar, lit up in blue, lining the wall on the left. In the back, to the right, was a curtain sectioning off part of the room. Probably where private events and such were held. All around, those serving the men and women (because this club catered to everyone) were dressed in tiny, barely existing shorts, some pulling off the look better than others. A few had personal touches to their "uniform," like one gentleman wearing a cowboy hat and another with a bowtie.

And as his companions had said it would be, it appeared to be clean and well taken care of, the music pounding loudest up near the stage. Of course, it could be kept as tidy as ever on the outside. That didn't mean other things didn't happen behind the scenes.

"C'mon, let's go get a table," Petra had linked arms with him and was dragging him across the room – as close to the stage as the current crowd allowed. Seating their group, the girls were all smiles as they distracted themselves with both the menus and the show going on up before them. Levi reminded himself that he was supposed to be positive as their waiter approached them.

He was a tall young man, his floppy brown hair giving him a boyish appearance despite his well-muscled form. Levi was betting his act had something to do with being a high school jock of some sort. If he had an act at all.

"I'm Bertholdt and I'll be your waiter tonight," he started, his deep voice coming across as both pleasant and somewhat shy. "Are there any drinks I can start you three off with?" Thus, they began the evening, their waiter retreating once they'd given their first orders.

"Oh, he's cute," Petra cooed when the policeman finally finished his show, the next single act coming on stage. He was attired on an almost completely opposite fashion, attempting to glamourize the thug look as he jived to some heavier beats. He was a much better dancer than the last one however, his hips able to roll in quite a few different moves as he tipped his hat before shrugging off his sweatshirt.

"It's almost eight," Isabel said across their table then, Levi much more apt to pay attention to conversation then what was happening on stage.

"What happens at eight?" he asked, trying not to sound all that truly interested.

"That's when the fully nude shows start," she replied mischievously.

"Oh," Levi rolled his eyes. "Joy." Glancing to the side, he ignored how Petra and Isabel giggled and began discussing the topic, his eyes instead going to the bar where, grouped behind it, were a few men in dark clothes and another, smaller man in sweats. It wasn't that their discussion look suspicious or another, but Levi found it more interesting than anything else happening.

"Oh, Levi, look, he's pretty good," Petra pulled his attention back to the stage. There, thug-man had finally stripped down to just his g-strong, his stocky, broad build giving him a somewhat mean appearance across his masculine face. His blonde hair was cut short and severe across his head, adding only more to his bad-boy charm. Which was probably why he was getting so many cheers. Soon enough he'd come off the stage and given one of the ladies a brief lap dance before getting back up under the lights.

Levi was more distracted when their drinks finally arrived however, his eyes drawn to the ice cubes floating in his glass. They were asked if they wanted anything else by their waiter, Isabel replying that they didn't at the moment, and then they were alone again.

Eventually the stripper left the stage, the lights brightening as a single, fully dressed man jumped up on stage, a mic in his hand. As he did, some in the crowd, likely regulars, began to cheer and he made a show of attempting to quiet them.

"And now comes the time I know so many of you have been waiting for. Those of you who are uncomfortable with anything above an PG level, please leave the building." He had a rather charismatic announcing voice, but it was clear that was all he was there for. "Also, as we do every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we have our Polescapades performed by the Rogue Mask, so let's all make sure we contribute to the hats being placed on each table. If we get enough, we can make sure he performs again." It was apparent, based on the cheers, that the regulars fully supported this particular act. However, how much money it made was probably based on how good it actually ended up being, seeing as a strip club in Vegas was more likely filled with newcomers than anyone else.

Soon enough, one of the waiters had come by and placed an upside-down, miniature top hat on their table, flashing them a suggestive smile as he did. Levi, naturally, ignored it, his drink in his hand as he leaned back in the round bench seat. He drank it slowly, knowing there were probably drink limits on a place with full-nudity. Not that he had a particular problem with that. Getting completely smashed wasn't exactly his idea of a good time.

"Oh, look, here they come," Petra encouraged as she glanced back at him. "Try and have fun." She smiled then, Levi supposing it would be in bad taste to give her a negative response. Instead, with no real attempts to enjoy himself, he turned his attention to the stage where, lights flashing accordingly, four men in varying types of tuxedos had expertly choreographed their way into the spotlight. They did their appropriate hip thrusts and fancy steps, Levi even having to admit that they could indeed dance. And the crowd cheered, both Isabel and Petra rather into the whole thing as well. It was entertaining enough, and Levi did appreciate their physiques once their jackets and shirts had come off. It was obvious they'd practiced and that they were each very good at what they did – they were performing in Vegas after all – but Levi saw very little actual dance in what they were doing. Then again, they were strippers, so perhaps he was expecting quite the wrong thing.

Soon all of them were on the ground, thrusting their hips up into the air in a unified front that called ever more cheers from the crowd. Within moments, their easily removable pants had been pulled off to reveal their cheesy socks and loafers as well as G-strings. After this, the show got even raunchier, though always in a well-choreographed manner. It wasn't long, the crowd encouraged to cheer louder, until the G-strings had been torn away as well.

Chin in his hand, elbow on the table, Levi supposed he could appreciate the view well enough.

"The one on the far right is really good," Isabel said through the cheering, Petra laughing as they looked back at Levi. As if asking his opinion on the whole thing.

"They're strippers," was all her offered however, Petra huffing then and staring at him as though quite disappointed in his response. Her attention returned to the stage soon enough however, her and Isabel cheering along with the rest of the club as the show was finished, the strippers coming down to mingle more with the crowd or whisking their way off behind the curtain, trailed by customers no doubt ready to pay for their lap services.

Up on the stage, some of the waiters were now pulling away some of the back curtains to reveal more of the stage. Three poles were set up there, Petra leaning back to talk to Levi again.

"I read about this on one of their flyers," she explained. "From what it says, they've got, like, a professional pole dancer or something?" She sounded unsure.

"Aren't all pole dancers considered 'professionals?'" Levi asked smartly.

"Well, I mean, I guess he's supposed to be really good or something," she shrugged.

"How good can someone actually be a pole dancing?" Isabel asked, though honest curiosity, not ridicule, sounded in her voice. Neither of her friends could answer however and instead focused their attention back up on the stage as the lights began to dim. Another show was about to begin.

The music dwindled then as well, the jiving beats replaced by a low-strumming string instrument before it soon elevated into what most would consider a sexy, Latin beat. It was far more complex than anything heard previously, sounding almost expertly composed. The music, however, wasn't what most people were paying attention to.

The lights had taken on a reddish glint, a figure having appeared from the back of the stage. He was already shirtless, the bottom half of his body covered in only glittery, skintight briefs. Upon his face was a similarly decorated masquerade mask.

The club had fallen silent by this time, everyone silent as the figure continue to come closer until his slim, wired frame was visible for all to see. He wasn't the typical musculature of male strippers. Rather, he was skinnier and more stretched in his muscle, his figure even somewhat feminine.

He was already in the act however, his fingers gracefully controlled as he slipped his way up to the center pole and sensually wrapped his hand around it. The music was still somewhat soft, but slowly becoming more intense, the pole dancer's every movement sensitive to the violins echoing out of the speakers.

His hands caressed the pole as if it were a real, feeling person – softly and deliberately. Until, rather abruptly, the music spiked and, looking as though he'd gasped in pleasure, his whole body thrust forward. Balanced on his toes, his head fell back, his torso folding backwards as his groin pressed into the pole. Yet as the slow crescendo of the music ended, he snapped from the slow pull and around the front, his leg hooking around the pole as his whole body seemed to collapse with the breath of the music. Swinging around, he used the leverage as a way of taking flight from the floor.

The audience was captivated as he somehow shimmied his way effortlessly up the pole, Levi not realizing how intent he himself was on watching. But what was going on wasn't simple pole dancing. This man was obviously trained in actual dance, his muscles contracting as, knees folded, his head fell back until he was holding onto the pole with only his legs. Reaching backwards, he pretended to grasp at the air as he folded himself upside down, the back of his head hitting the pole as one of his legs reached up to point straight into the air.

Suddenly, the music fell, gasps echoing around in the crowd as the dancer did as well. Releasing his hold on the pole, his whole body slipped down, his head only centimeters from the ground before he took grip again and halted the fall with his legs. He hung there for a moment, the audience taking in his performance for only a breath before he expertly folded back down and turned back to the pole. Splayed out on his knees, he hugged the pole to his body while his groin thrust against in momentarily.

The violins hit a violent slip and the dancer's body flashed back in a similar manner, yet somehow retaining his sensual allure at the same time. As if tossed back by the pole itself, he dragged himself back across the floor, begging it to take him back. His whole body dragged, his rear still somehow managing to draw the eye as he crawled and thrust his way back up the pole.

It apparently didn't want him back however and, his torso folding, his back bulged momentarily as if he'd taken a blow to the stomach. Arms tense, he then tossed himself into a swift, violent swing around the pole, his legs flailed out severely, yet somehow he managed to keep complete control. Flipping in a way Levi couldn't follow, he was soon throwing his legs upwards before wrapping them around the pole. Brown hair hanging, he pulled the pole against him, his hips grinding against it despite how he hung upside-down against it.

The music had become softer, as if perhaps the pole was considering taking him back. Ankles, feet, and legs wrapped tightly around the middle of the pole, his upper body soon arced outward, his arms slipping up and behind him in a graceful swoop. Bent backwards around the pole for only a moment, he was soon holding on near the top once again, his legs coming loose as he righted his position.

Taking the pole between his thighs, he laid his cheeks against it as well as he slipped it provocatively between his legs. The movements soon became more erratic, as if he was becoming desperate. Inch by inch he was sliding up to the top of the pole again. Until, his hands grappling – clawing – at the ceiling, his knees were nearly colliding with the lights, his chest rubbing up against the fixtures.

Letting go of the ceiling, he was bent back again, the pole pressed up against his behind as he turned himself upside-down – as if it were easy. Gripping the pole tightly between his fingers, he turned himself until he was facing it, his arms stretching down to give his legs the space to find the ceiling. Feet pressed flat upwards, he was grinding once more against the pole, smoothly executing a sexual move upside-down that many couldn't even do right side up.

His movements became faster, more vigorous, his hands grappling at the pole desperately. It was as it he could somehow defy gravity, though Levi could see the strain on his arms and torso. He was, after all, making a show of effortlessly holding up his entire body. And moving it.

As his act seemed to reach its climax however, the music hit a sour note and he was abruptly swinging down across the pole again, this time the music retaining a kind of frenzied, angry disposition. Like some kind of deranged acrobat, he was tossing his body around the pole, yet at the same time able to remain in character. The way he curved his body and the fierceness in the procession of his swings made it seem as if the pole was the one throwing him away.

Until, finally, it succeeded. Ankles wrapping around one of the adjacent poles, the dancer was easily able to transfer himself from one to the other, his whole body swing around once before he pulled up and reached back behind his head, grabbing the new pole as it was pressed against the back of his glittering briefs. He moved up and down the pole slowly then, as if to need it, but it didn't satisfy him. Releasing the pole, his abdominal muscles contracted as he reached forward. The pole latched between his thighs, he was pulling himself horizontal towards the other one, his arms reaching out desperately.

It continued to reject him however, the dancer eventually swinging back around and gaining momentum as he then started tossing himself between all three poles. The crowd was cheering by now, beginning to thunder as the music pulled him between the three different poles. His arms became hectic, his movements purposefully disjointed until, with a swell of the music, he finally attached himself fully to the center pole again and fell.

Collapsing on the ground, he was bent forward on the stage for a moment, the pole running up the center of his briefs. Slowly, with an agonizing act, he pulled himself up until he was bent back against the pole. There, breathing hard as his chest and hips thrust forward, the music finally slashed to an end. The lights blacked out, the performance closing with far more punch than it had begun.

The crowd was still cheering wildly, Levi blinking as he finally seem to regain control of his senses. He hadn't realized that he'd leaned forward in his seat, his focus having fallen completely to the dancer.

"That was incredible," Petra hissed to them as the two women continued clapping. "I didn't even know that kind of thing was possible." She and Isabel were obviously astounded, Levi supposing he was impressed, but rather more focused on the tightness that had formed inside his trousers.

Jumping back up on the stage, the announcer grabbed their attention. "Don't forget to tip the hats everyone. The more you give, the more times he can come back with a new act before we close!" All over the club, people reached into their wallets and began dumping cash into the hats, the waiters going around and picking up the proceeds.

Levi, reaching into his pocket, pulled out a twenty before carelessly placing it inside. Then, looking to Isabel, he attempting to scoot his way out of the bench seat.

"I'm going up to the bar," he explained as she moved out of the way for him. He didn't look back at them as he retreated, his eyes scanning the club until he found who he was looking for. Hunkering his way up to a man behind a podium near the curtain, he made his business blatantly clear.

"What do you offer behind that curtain?" he asked briskly, the man, who'd been counting money, glancing up swiftly before allowing a small grin to break out across his face.

"Just lap dances. No funny business here," he made clear.

"Fine," Levi waved his hand dismissively. "How much?"

"Depends on the guy."

"The one who just performed," he replied coldly. "The pole dancer." The man smirked wider then, seeming to enjoy Levi's inquiry far more than he should have.

"The Rogue Mask?" he questioned despite knowing perfectly well who Levi had been referring to. "Sorry honey, but he doesn't do that."

"What do you mean he doesn't do that?" Levi asked a little more sharply than he probably should have. "I thought strippers made most of their money off of private dances?"

"Most do," the man shrugged. "But the Rogue is satisfied with what he makes in the hats. Isn't interested in private dancing. And seeing as that's a source of private income, it's his call." He shrugged. "Don't worry though honey, you're not the first to come up here all hot and bothered asking for him." Eyes narrowed, Levi glared, offering no further discussion as he turned away. Not even bothering to consider any of the other strippers, he scanned the room, as if he'd somehow find the "Rogue" himself. The brunette was nowhere in sight however and, aggravated, he instead headed towards the bathrooms.

Oddly disappointed, he decided he'd have to deal with his issues himself. And that the rest of the night was likely to be long if the "Rogue Mask" kept coming back on stage.

**oOo**

Taking a deep breath, he paused only momentarily to look up at the large, glass paneling on the front of the building before he forced his feet forward. The sliding doors opened for him immediately, the broad, spaciously furnished lobby spreading out before him. Directly in front was a single, rounded desk, the company logo suspended behind it. Approaching, he glanced down at the two receptionists working there. One was female, the other male, both of them dressed in the appropriate formal attire for such a position.

He happened to be closer to the young man, who turned up to address him.

"Good morning Sir," he greeted with what Levi recognized as a rather stunning smile. Weighed down by large, deep green eyes, he really did appear far too happy to see the stranger before him. Very much a pretty young man. "What is it we can do for you?" The other receptionist had glanced up momentarily, but then gone back to typing on her computer.

"I was told there'd be a key waiting for me up here," he issued coldly. "I'm the new Vice CEO." Those green eyes bulged a little then, the smile faltering.

"Mr. Akerman," he addressed then. "We were expecting you." And despite the fact that he hadn't done anything wrong, he acted quite like he had as he pulled his chair along the desk before reaching into a far drawer. Levi watched him the whole time, spotting an odd, rounded mark on the base of the man's thumb. It looked almost like a bite scar, but as he pushed himself back in Levi's direction, it was recognized for what it was. A birthmark.

"Here you are Sir," the young man nodded once as he held the key up to him, Levi finally reading his name tag. Eren Yeager. "And Mr. Smith asked that, when you came in, we tell you he wants to see you before you get settled into your office."

"Hm, alright" Levi issued, his chilled voice causing "Eren" no comfort. He didn't care however and, getting what he'd wanted, he left the desk and headed towards the elevators on the far side of the room. Once inside, he hit the button for the eightieth floor, prepared to wait some while he was carried upwards, occasionally interrupted by someone else on their way up. It wasn't until he'd reached the seventieth floor that someone of any interest came aboard, and only because they looked at him, looked at the floor number he was headed too, and then back at him. And then  _spoke_  to him.

"You must be Levi Akerman," a voice that sounded both oddly female and male interjected on his thoughts, the person before him donning glasses and reddish-brown hair tied up in a ponytail. That aside, they were wearing a fitted suit, though no tie and the collar was in slight disarray. However, he found that he couldn't quite tell if they were a man or a woman.

"I'm Hange Zoe," it continued, holding out its hand. "I'm head of the science department. Erwin wanted to see me this morning as well, said maybe I'd meet you." A smile.

Levi, however, found the name wasn't helpful at all and, lips pursed, made a show of looking the person up and down before meeting their gaze.

"Are you a man or a woman?" he asked then. Blinking, he received a momentary pause in response before being greeted with bursting laughter. Turning away from him, no response was offered. And Levi, who didn't appreciate being ignored, made his sentiments known. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"My, my, Erwin said you could be direct," was the easy reply. "Among other things." The elevator arrived at the top floor then, both of them stepping out and Levi further disgruntled when Hange still didn't address him in what he considered the proper manner. Instead, they both headed down the short hallway that led up to Erwin's secretary's desk. Hange, however, didn't bother stopping there, instead going directly to the door on the right. Even as the secretary vainly tried to bring them to a halt.

"Ah, Ms. Zoe," Erwin greeted as they entered, Levi trailing behind. "And Levi," he hadn't even looked up at them as they'd entered. "Please, take a seat." He finally caught their gazes then. A blonde man with expertly parted locks, he also possessed sharp blue eyes and bushy eyebrows. His thick jawline was severe, his presence having the same chilling effect it'd had when he and Levi had been roommates in college. Needless to say, they'd been a rather unapproachable pair.

Hange did as directed and flopped down in one of the seats, Levi taking his time to remove his coat, lay it over his briefcase, and then set it all beside the chair. He slowly sat down, straightening his jacket as he crossed his right leg over the left. Erwin watched him the whole time, a secret smirk on his lips as he surveyed Levi's unaffected attitude.

"Well I'm glad you've both met," Erwin started once it was apparent that Levi was acceptably comfortable. "Since our last VP, well, had to leave," he'd died, or so Levi had learned. Massive heart attack, "Hange here has been in charge of everything I couldn't take on myself. So for the first few weeks, your training," he was looking directly at Levi, "will be conducted by both she and myself. Of course, I'm assuming you'll catch on quickly. Your work experience, as well as our person history, ensures that."

"Erwin here tells me you went to college together," Hange started, smiling again. "Said you were second only to him when you graduated. And you guys both went to Stanford, didn't you?" Levi didn't feel the need to answer; mostly because it was apparent Hange already knew the answer to her own inquiry. "You guys make me feel so inferior."

"There's no need to feel that way," Erwin waved her off. "You're a brilliant scientist."

"That sold myself to the Man for the money," she sighed, though honestly didn't sound that broken up about it. Despite being located in Las Vegas (though not near the main strip), Erwin's company, which was uncreatively called ES Research, was one of the leading drug testing companies in the county. Hange's job was no laughing matter, even Levi knew that. They worked with patrons out of country as well as within the United States. The top scientists, as well as top marketers, were a requirement. And the top business leaders as well.

"Well, the Man wouldn't be able to do it without you," Erwin assured, no doubt hinting that he filled such unglamorous shoes. "In any case, I called you up here Hange because I finished looking over those test files you sent me – from the Japanese clients where all the rats died after the false dosage – and I figured I could give them back to you while you and Levi introduced yourselves. Which you've apparently already done, so!" Standing, he grabbed a file off his desk and handed it to Hange, the two of them standing as well. "I'm now going to take you down to your office," he nodded to Levi, "and we'll have another meeting this afternoon to go over the logistics of this transfer of power."

Together, they retreated from the office to the elevator, Erwin saying something to his secretary as they went by. Levi knew his office was located only one floor down, so he and Erwin were soon enough back off the elevator while Hange continued her way further down. Erwin had an entire floor to himself, but Levi shared the seventy-ninth with all the other board members. Thankfully, most doors appeared to be closed, so he could postpone speaking to them again (they'd been present for all his interviews) until the meeting later that afternoon. Instead, Erwin led him down the hallway to the middle of the mahogany trimmed level where there was another secretary sitting inside a circular desk. She was an older woman and Erwin waved as they passed her. Levi didn't bother.

Up ahead, in much the same fancy fashion of Erwin's office, were two double doors. Only another wall was needed, apparently, to give Levi the privacy he required since he didn't have an entire floor all to himself. Behind the doors, because Erwin had pushed his way through them, was a smaller room with chairs for waiting, yet another secretary sitting at a desk against the back wall.

"This is your executive assistant," Erwin introduced them as they approached, the young man behind the desk facing them respectfully. "His name is Armin Artlert. He's a graduate from Harvard and has been working here for… three years?" Erwin asked him directly.

"Yes Sir," the young, blonde boy replied, Levi eyeing him narrowly.

"You look a little young to already have been to college," Levi observed, assuming this made his point clear enough.

"Er, yes, well," Armin cleared his throat. "I graduated early from high school and was done with college by the time I was nineteen. I want to go back for my masters, but was advised to get some experience first." Levi nodded in understanding, able to place more faith in the young man for being honest enough to admit that he didn't intend to stay with the company forever.

"And this is your office," Erwin turned their attention to the other door to the right, gesturing Levi forward as Armin jumped up and opened the door for them. And as they entered, Levi felt his stomach immediately drop. "Uh, well," Erwin started then, "the previous VP had… different tastes than you, but you're welcome to change whatever you like."

"This is disgusting," Levi decided coldly, Armin, who was standing behind them, raising the back of his hand to his mouth to stop himself from laughing. "Was this man blind or simply garish?"

"It's not nice to speak ill of the dead Levi," Erwin replied stoically.

"If everything he did was as offensive as this room, then fuck manners," Levi stated briskly as he entered further into the room. Erwin didn't bother correcting his language. Mostly because the office really was hideous. If it wasn't the dusty, Victorian curtains clashing with the splatters of modern art adorning the walls, then it was the huge animal sculptures sitting all over the room, growling and glaring at anyone who entered. Approaching one of a lion, Levi stuck his finger in its mouth, scowling when it came back covered in dust.

"The previous VP liked to do his own cleaning," Erwin offered.

"Then he obviously didn't know the definition of clean," Levi snapped before sighing. "This will all have to go," he turned to Armin then, who straightened up. "I want everything gone – the curtains, the… 'art,' the furniture," which was no better. "It all needs to be gone."

"Y-yes Sir," Armin nodded, though it was clear, based on the look on his face, that he had no idea how to even begin such a task.

"That's the thing about that," Erwin started, Levi turned to glare at him and interrupt before he could even finish.

"Don't you dare tell me I have to work in an office that looks like this Erwin," he scolded. "I'll quit first."

"No, no, no," Erwin assured. "It's just that, a lot of what's in here is, well, actually worth some money and even protected in some cases. Like the paintings on the walls and such. So… everything has to be surveyed and sorted before it can be auctioned off. I'd like to have been able to clear out this place weeks ago, but I just didn't have the time to think about it."

"Well, it can't stay like this," Levi made perfectly clear. "If the stuff can't be thrown out, then it needs to be moved to storage somewhere. It can be sorted out there. Who can I call to have this stuff moved out? Now."

"Since these are all considered personal possessions of the deceased, the company can't actually be liable for moving them. The family said to auction everything, but that doesn't mean it belongs to us. Therefore, I can't  _actually_  have people from the company do that."

"I'm going to kill you Erwin."

"However, if you just happened to have your secretary or something get everything out of the way, say it was taking up too much space or something, then I guess there's nothing to be done about that." Erwin shrugged, though he appeared all too smug about the whole thing.

"Armin," Levi looked directly to the young man, "I want all of this out of here as soon as possible. And I mean everything. I want to be able to walk in this room and it's completely empty. I don't even want the bookshelves." They were a hideous puke brown color.

"If you need anything, here's a key to the janitor's closet in the basement," Erwin pulled it out of his pocket, having anticipated Levi's reaction. "Feel free to get help from some of the employees downstairs." Because Armin did actually have power over other employees. Administrative assistants were nothing to scoff at. "This isn't going to be an easy task."

"I can't even stand to be in here right now," Levi decided, shaking his head as he looked around again. "This room is so gross." And despite the huge job he'd just been given, Armin had to hide a laugh once again.

**oOo**

"He doesn't seem too bad then?" Levi heard a voice questioning as he exited the locker room. "I saw him yesterday. I couldn't get a good reading on him though." There was a young man in the gym, the only person besides himself that early in the morning. He was sitting on the stretching mats dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top, his bright green tennis shoes drawing most of the attention. Levi recognized him of course. He'd been the receptionist on the ground floor of the building, the one who had given him his key the morning before. He had his phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, his well-muscled arms pulling him into a near horizontal stretch as he reached easily past his toes, his chest bent down against his leg.

Levi had assumed, seeing as it was six in the morning, that he'd be the only one crazy enough to drop by the company gym. Apparently, however, his insanity was shared with one other person.

"I can't believe he said that," Eren Yeager laughed then, his stretches appearing to take no effort whatsoever. "Are you going to need help?" He wasn't expecting anyone else to be there either, that much was apparent to Levi. His voice was loud, as if he didn't care about the opinions of anyone else around, which led to the assumption that he'd never encountered anyone else during the wee hours of the morning. "Is there really that much stuff in his office?"

And Levi, who had more of a sense of humor than people gave him credit for, waited patiently for the most opportune time.

"I'd be happy to help," Eren continued, on to stretching his other leg. "Moving a whole bunch of stuff into storage is better than answering phones for eight hours." One eyebrow cocked, Levi was beginning to deduce who exactly Mr. Yeager was talking to, despite how unlikely such knowledge was actually likely to be. "Yeah right," he continued. "You were always the smart one, not me," he clarified. "Besides, though he didn't seem like a bad guy, he didn't seem like the nicest person either." And Levi, who was watching his stretching progress, saw that he was about to lean backwards, which would reveal who was standing behind him. Taking advantage, Levi stepped forward until he was just behind him, watching in secret amusement at what unfolded next.

Phone now held in his hand to his ear, Eren went to lean back – to do a kind of hold that strengthened his abdominals – when he caught sight of something else.

Eyes widening, he jumped, losing his balance and falling flat on his back, his voice shouting in surprise as his phone bounced heavily against the mat. Staring up at Levi through wide eyes, he was momentarily struck with shock as the topic of his conversation stared down at him with a single cocked eyebrow. Mouth opening and closing, no words came, Levi not letting up on the harshness of his expression.

When it was apparent that Eren had no idea what to do however, Levi took the initiative and reached down. Grabbing up the discarded phone, he held it to his ear, where the man on the other line was inquiring into what had happened.

"Good morning Mr. Arlert," Levi replied coolly, Eren finally jumping up, broken out of his shock by Levi's actions. "I thought it appropriate to answer your questions seeing as Eren was far too shocked to get to them. Don't worry, everything is quite alright here." His assistant had fallen silent in what Levi decided must be surprise as well. "Also," he added. "I'm a  _very_  nice person." Eren's head fell then, redness flushing up his neck onto to his cheeks. "Well, I'm glad you agree," Levi continued. "Yes, I'll see you later this morning. I'm glad to hear it."

Pulling the phone from his ear, he pressed his finger into the screen to hang it up before offering it back to Eren, who took it hesitantly and with nothing to say. He didn't even look up at Levi actually, the tenseness of his form visible from across the room. And Levi, who was far more amused than he let on, stared at him for only a moment before shaking his head and walking away. Finding a position on the other side of the large mat, he began his own stretches, aware of the way Eren silently watched him. As if waiting for the hand of god to come down and punish him.

To be quite frank, Levi could see his reasoning for being paranoid. He hadn't always been a wealthy PhD after all and could understand how threatening authority figures could be. Not that he had any sympathy for the young man, but he could understand.

"You and Armin know each other then?" he questioned, his tone not at all legitimately interested. It seemed to startle Eren out of his uneasy pause however, who blinked and considered how to answer.

"Er, yeah, we live together actually," he replied as he reached up and scratched the back of his shaggy haired head. Levi nodded in response, going about his own stretches and not questioning into anything further. The situation was, however, somewhat awkward (since they were the only two there), thus he was not surprised when Eren continued talking. "We've known each other since we were kids…"

His eyes fell to the side.

"And you happen to work for the same company?" Levi asked as he stretched down both of his legs, proving that he was just as capable as the other man.

"Well, Armin got me my job here, actually," he clarified. "I've only worked here for six months…"

"Ah," Levi replied well enough. The conversation seemed to die then however, Eren finally getting back down on the mat and finishing his stretches. The silence was thick, but it was able to be worked through. And seeing as Levi didn't care about the awkwardness level, he wasn't at all worried about it. Eren kept looking over at him though, a puzzled look on his face.

Levi ignored it.

It wasn't until Levi got up to use one of the treadmills, which happened to be on the other side of the room, that things finally seemed to settle. Eren, who would normally be using a treadmill as well, deferred to a bike instead, pulling his ear buds from his pocket and starting his music as he pumped the petals.

Levi preferred silence however, completely content to close his eyes and run for half an hour. He could hear Eren breathing somewhere behind him, the bike fanning out, but it was still better than coming when there were a dozen other sweaty, smelly, huffing bodies. At least Eren was in good enough shape that he wasn't wheezing or puffing. His lungs breathed in and out accordingly, his rhythm habitual and expected.

Half hours were a pretty regular time slot however, which was why they both ended up finishing at the same time. Eren was no longer bothered however, his music blasting in his ears as he made his way over to the weights. Levi distracted himself with the punching bag, his hands soon wrapped in the appropriate tape as he allowed his arms and legs to loosen up.

It was for this reason that he didn't notice Eren watching him.

A weight in each hand, Eren was standing erect, his arms stretched out on each side of him as he worked out his underarms and abdominals. Honestly, he had been quite taken aback when Mr. Akerman had first shown up. He worked out this early in the morning because his afternoons were usually filled with other activities. That someone else would show up hadn't crossed his mind. It wasn't even light out yet. Not that he minded having Mr. Akerman there. He wasn't bothersome, though he hadn't initially struck Eren as being the type to be… so in shape.

He was a shorter man, but extremely well muscled. Eren had skinny, stretched muscle – he was extremely flexible and well-toned. Mr. Akerman, on the other hand, was bulkier than Eren would have been able to see through his suit. He wasn't buff like so many workout junkies were, but his small form didn't have a speck of fat on it. He didn't have to remove his shirt for Eren to know he had a six-pack, among other things. Eren had a six-pack too, but it was thinner, only really obvious when he flexed. Mr. Akerman was the type of guy Eren wouldn't want to meet in the back of an alley somewhere because, for all of Eren's strength, he was pliable where Mr. Akerman would be rock.

And the way he was expertly beating on that bag… he wasn't just a typical suit.

Forcing his gaze to find something else, Eren refocused his attention on his weight lifting, eventually becoming unaware once again. It was for this reason, with his music turned up louder than was probably necessary, that he jumped again when he turned and saw Levi staring up at him with his arms crossed over his chest. Popping his ear buds out quickly, he wiped the sweat from his forehead as he looked down at him. "You're going to blow your ears out you know," Levi mentioned it as if it were common sense, which it was, and Eren blushed. "I was trying to get your attention. I wasn't going to do this at all because company policy requires a spotter, but since you're here, you can help."

"O-okay," Eren agreed despite not really knowing what he was agreeing to.

Without offering further explanation, Levi turned and walked towards the weight lifting benches. There, he began to load plates onto each side, Eren watching as he came up behind him.

"I don't actually need you here," Levi made clear, "but it's not safe to do this completely alone, especially in the company gym. So just stand there." Because Eren now knew what he was supposed to be doing. Though if Mr. Akerman did happen to fail to lift the weights, Eren wasn't sure how much help he'd be. He couldn't lift what was loaded onto the bar, whatever that was. And, to be honest, Eren never bench-pressed anyway.

Mr. Akerman was obviously experienced however. Lying underneath the bar, he reached up, steadied his breathing, and began the slow lifting motion. He was breathing deliberately Eren soon realized, his mouth falling open slightly as he watched. Levi's muscles were bulging ever more, making it quite apparent that what he lifted was no easy feat. He completed some ten reps before he returned the bar and sat up, sweat dripping down his face and, well, the rest of his body.

"How much is on there?" Eren asked curiously.

"Two-hundred and fifty," he replied.

"Is that… a lot?"

"It's nothing huge," he shrugged. "But I don't intend to be a world winning bench presser either." In fact, his workouts weren't really about building muscle. He had routines for every day, but he wasn't truly all that concerned with meeting extravagant goals.

"I've never even tried," Eren shook his head. "I could probably lift my own weight, but I don't think I'd do more than that."

"Then don't attempt to do it without anyone else around," Levi made perfectly clear as he lay back down to do it again. And Eren, falling silent once more, watched him for the next fifteen or so minutes as he did a certain number, took a short break, and then did it again.

Soon enough he finally finished, Eren quite unsure what to think of the whole thing. Part of him felt that, were he with anyone else, he'd try to make friends, start casual conversation. But this was the Vice President of the entire company. What did they even have to talk about? After all, it wasn't like they were peers or something. Mr. Akerman was some Ivy League PhD. And Eren, well… he'd never even set foot in a college classroom before. The difference between them was, as far as he was concerned, too vast to breach.

"So… I'm just going to go back and… do my weights some more," he mentioned quietly. Mr. Akerman had stood and was drinking water from his bottle. He turned to watch Eren retreat however, eventually shaking his head before going on to finish his own workout. Thus, the rest of their time was spent in silence. Seeing as they both started work, officially, at eight, they ended up heading back to the locker rooms around seven-thirty. Mr. Akerman had a key to the more private section however, so they were completely separated. It wasn't until they were both leaving, their hair wet from the necessary need to shower, that they ran into one another again.

Eren had replaced his workout attire with a pair of gray slacks and a blue button-up. In comparison to his boss, he looked like a slob however. But, then again, not much could compare to a designer suit.

"You're going to help Armin with my office then?" he asked as they headed down the hall.

"Uh, he asked me to, yeah," Eren verified, once again reminded of how he'd been overheard.

He got a "hmph" in response before, "see you later than." And as simply as that, as the hallway opened up, he was watching Mr. Akerman's small form walking off, Eren abruptly unsure if agreeing to help Armin had been a good idea after all.

He frowned.


	2. Jocks in the Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here! Have another chapter!

"How's your new boss?" Mikasa asked as the four of them sat down for dinner. Eren and Armin had just returned from work, and Mikasa and Jean had been home for an hour or so. Upon request, Chinese had been the chosen take-out, all of them sitting down around on the living room furniture as Armin passed out what everyone had ordered.

"Uh, he seems fine," Armin shrugged, his bobbed blonde hair pulled back in a half-pony as he grabbed the chopsticks from their bag. "I mean, he's not really in the office much. I don't think he can take what it looks like and cleaning it all out – since we have to sort through everything – is going to take a while."

"What it looks like?" Jean asked as he took the chopsticks handed to him.

"Yeah," Armin nodded. "The office is pretty garish from my last boss," Eren scoffed, reiterating his point since he'd been helping with the clean up, "and Mr. Ackerman really hates it. Sometimes he walks in and I think he's going to be sick. I can't figure out if it's the décor that gets him or the fact that it's dirty. Like, we pulled some books off the shelves yesterday, while he was in there, and there was a couple inches of dust and, well, dead bugs, and he had to actually leave the room."

"Really?" Jean laughed a little as he lifted some noodles to his lips.

"It's actually not that funny," Eren corrected. "I don't know if you noticed or not Armin, but at one point, when he was cleaning off the desk – Mr. Ackerman that is – " he explained for the others, "he actually started to wash the tabletop. You know, of the desk. And that wouldn't be weird except that he did it, like, three or four times. And then, after staring down at it, he had to leave and then came back and did it again."

Armin raised his eyebrows in surprise. He must not have been in the room at the time. "You think he's OCD or something?" he asked.

"I dunno," Eren shrugged. "He seemed okay with being sweaty this morning." Mikasa and Jean stared at him curiously. "I met him in the gym," he clarified shortly. "In any case, he didn't seem to care about that. At least, not that I could tell."

"Maybe its just filth that bothers him," Mikasa suggested, not sounding entirely invested in the conversation. But that wasn't exactly an irregularity. With dark hair and eyes, and a naturally serious expression, most would deem her unapproachable despite it being her typical demeanor. As all her friends had come to learn however, it wasn't her fault.

"Maybe," Armin shrugged.

"He seems okay aside from that though?" Jeans asked, far more apt to continue a conversation than his girlfriend.

"He's a little abrupt sometimes," Armin decided thoughtfully, "and he doesn't really say please or thank you. But… it's more like he doesn't realize he's being rude I think."

"Or he doesn't care," Eren shrugged.

"But he's not mean, and he doesn't ask anything ridiculous. In fact, he gets his own coffee and everything." Which was a good point as far as Armin was concerned. He'd made coffee runs more often than he'd sat behind the desk when he'd had his previous boss.

"Yeah, that's true. He didn't really asked either of us to do anything, actually," Eren reflected. "I don't even know that he said a single word to us all day."

"Sounds kind of snobby to me," Jean shrugged.

"You know, you'd think," Armin pursed his lips, his expression looking as though he was attempting to unravel some kind of mystery. "But that's really not the case. It's more like…"

"More like he doesn't have time for pleasantries and manners," Eren interjected. "It's not that he's a bad person, he just has better things to do."

"Like Mikasa," Jean teased, those dark eyes blinking blankly back into his paler ones.

"I don't think I'll really know what he's like until the office is done though," Armin deduced. "Right now, I think he just wants us to get it cleaned out as soon as possible." A task that was a lot harder than one would think. Mostly because the storage area was in the basement, which meant that Eren and Armin had to take a load of stuff all the way down. They had the elevator, sure, but it still took time.

"At least you have something to do again," Mikasa started. "For a while you were afraid they were going to give you an extended vacation until they hired someone." Which would be bad, mostly because Armin had already used up all his paid vacation.

"Mr. Smith seems pretty confident in him," Armin shrugged. "They act like they know each other actually." From the one interaction he'd seen of them together. "I think they must have gone to college together actually. I know that Mr. Smith went to Stanford and when I was given a copy of Mr. Ackerman's resume, it looked like he had too."

"I'ma look him up," Eren decided as he grabbed his laptop off the table and cracked it open.

"You're so nosy sometimes," Jean commented.

"I like to know as much as I can," Eren growled in response. "Excuse me for wanting to be educated."

"Stalking someone on the internet is not 'being educated," Jean made air quotes with his fingers.

"I kind of want to know too," Armin added as he scooted across the couch to look over Eren's shoulder. Logically, the first thing he did was type his name into google. And the first result they got was a facebook link. Clicking it, both he and Armin were oddly disappointed when, despite it seeming to be him, they found that his profile was completely and totally private.

"He doesn't seem like the type that would have a facebook," Armin observed and Eren shrugged as he slipped some vegetables into his mouth and backtracked to the google page.

"There's a link for his previous work," Armin pointed out just as Eren was about to click on it. Silently they read what it had to say. He'd been a board member for some kind of medical supply company. He'd gotten his undergrad degrees from University of California before graduating second in his graduate class from Stanford. There was a whole bunch of stuff about his work history, but nothing that was of much interest to Armin or Eren. And there was nothing personal or about his life before college, which was disappointing for the overly curious minds of boys in their twenties.

Eren continued to search the google links, but they found nothing more. Mr. Ackerman's true nature was still mystery to them as the laptop was closed again.

"Nothing then?" Jean asked, not really interested in an answer.

"Not really, except that he's really smart," Eren shrugged, returning his full attention to his dinner.

"Well, tough luck," Jean decided.

"You're not working tonight, right?" Mikasa asked, looking directly at Eren as she abruptly changed the subject.

"No, it's Tuesday," Eren replied. "Why?"

"Your mom called yesterday, remember?" she replied, Eren's expression immediately dropping. "She said she wanted to see you." The attitude of the room plummeted, everyone fully aware that Eren's mother was a topic of discussion that brought no one any joy.

"I know she wants to see me," Eren replied shortly. "Except that when I get there, she's going to have forgotten she wanted to talk to me in the first place." He was bitter, it was true, but it was hard not to be sometimes. "Or she'll start throwing things at me."

"I'm just relaying the message," Mikasa made clear. Eren refused to answer.

"I thought they were putting her on some new medications?" Armin started.

"They are. It seems to make her less loopy, but doesn't control her mood swings as well. She threw a lamp at one of the nurses on Thursday, and then called me at work hysterical about it because someone left her chart open where she could get my number." That Thursday had been particularly long. "I have to go in this week actually and talk to them." His tone was defeated as he sighed, his head leaning back over the couch as he pushed his newly empty Chinese container across the coffee table.

"She's only getting worse… isn't she?" Mikasa asked sadly. She'd known Eren's mother quite well before the crazy had set in. Before his father had left and his mother had lost everything. "What does the hospital want to talk to you about?"

"About her medications, and, of course, releasing her."

"I don't even know how they can suggest that," Armin shook his head.

"They seem to think that when she's on medication, she's stable enough. Until things like last Thursday happen, or what happened last month. They seem to think she gets better and then something else happens. I wish they'd just realize that she's never going to be better." The finality in his voice silenced everyone else in the room, their eyes darting between one another until Mikasa found the gumption to clear her throat.

"The state is still paying for her to stay in the hospital though, right?"

"Most of it yeah. Another one of her medications came off the insurance though," he sighed. "But what's another two-hundred dollars a month? I'll just do another dance, right?" And they didn't have to see him to know he'd rolled his eyes.

"I wish you'd get a different job," Mikasa murmured.

"There's not another job that pays as well," he leaned forward on the couch again. "Besides," he offered her a comforting grin, "it's not like I ever have to do anything up close and personal. I like it, actually, despite how the sounds."

"I don't understand how you can like doing that," Jean commented in distaste.

"What?" Eren smiled mischievously as he ground his hips into the couch cushions. "You don't like my sexy dancing?"

"It makes me uncomfortable."

"Everything makes you uncomfortable," Eren rolled his eyes, his good humor fading.

"I just wish you could do it somewhere more… safe…" Mikasa interjected.

"Mikasa, strip clubs are the only kinds of places that can use that kind of dancing. It's not like I can just show up at the ballet and climb up and down a pole."

"You know how to do other kinds of dancing," she argued.

"I like pole dancing," he defended stubbornly, his arms crossing over his chest.

"That's a talent that'll get you somewhere," Jean stated sarcastically, Eren glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

"Fuck you Jean," he stated. "At least I'm doing something I like to do and not just working to climb the monetary ladder." He got a glare back at him then, the two men bristling as Armin interjected between them.

"Don't even start you two," he issued strictly. "Last time you busted the chair." Which had had to then be replaced.

"I'm not starting anything," Eren decided temperamentally. Standing, he stalked around the couch before marching off to his room, his door clicking closed behind him. Watching, and reflecting on multiple parts of their previous conversation, all three of his roommates frowned.

**oOo**

It was a little ridiculous, were Levi being totally honest with himself. However, fight as he might, the idea just wouldn't leave his head. The day before, which had been Tuesday, he'd only considered the idea in passing, unaware that it was continually taking over his brain as he ignored it. Like a slow roaster or something. And now, thirty minutes before he was supposed to leave, he was unable to focus on work as he sat in the old computer chair that had belonged to his predecessor. Facing the large windows overlooking the city, he ignored the state of his office as Armin and Eren puttered on behind him, removing dusty books from the disgusting, warped bookshelf – an act he just couldn't bring himself to watch. One, because it was gross, and two, he was afraid he'd be so disappointed in their cleaning skills that he'd have to do something about it. In his current state, that could only end poorly. And likely with yelling.

Instead, eyes closed, he ping-ponged about how much he really wanted to go back to Petra and Isabel's club that night. The announcer had said the "Rogue Mask" (stupid name) came every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The shows had been impressive, but normally that wouldn't be enough to entice him back. Well, he knew  _why_  he wanted to go back – the churning between his legs told him that. The real question was why he found that particular dancer to be so appealing. He'd seen plenty of strippers and plenty of dancers, but he just couldn't get this one out of his head.

He knew it was vulgar, but he wanted nothing more than to fuck the daylights out of the guy, whoever he was. Which was why he was only thinking about it, not discussing it openly with other people. Not that he was going to go out of his way to stalk the dancer or anything, he wasn't a lunatic (he thought), but mostly it was just irritating to him how much he really did want him. He hadn't felt this kind of desire in a long time, which told him that he was either a.) super horny or b.) attracted by some unknown quality that he couldn't place – an out of the ordinary occurrence. If Levi liked something, he could generally tell someone why, and if he hated something, he had no qualms explaining that one either.

Despite all this confusion however (because that was what it was no matter how he loathed it), a thrumming in the back of his mind kept encouraging him to go back. Just go and see the show that one night. He didn't care to watch anything else, just the shows performed by that one dancer.

Maybe if he went back only this once, he could get it out of his system. Whatever it was that was in his system.

"Uh, Mr. Ackerman?" Pulled from his thoughts by Eren's voice, he swiveled in his chair, looking at the young man with questioningly raised eyebrows. "Did you want to keep this table or…?" Only occasionally was he interrupted by either of the boys. Generally they could tell what was appropriate for an office and what wasn't (a quality his dead predecessor had lacked). However, buried under all the crap, they did occasionally come across something that could be considered tolerable, in which case they decided that asking Levi how he felt was probably the best course of action.

Looking at the long coffee table, Levi quickly deduced that it was only fit for a garage sale. "Get rid of it," he issued swiftly, Eren replying with a quick "okay" before he went about doing just that. Armin was nowhere in sight however, which meant that Eren was left to wrestle it on his own. Wondering it he was really going to try or if he'd wait for Armin to return, Levi watched, somewhat surprised when, after surveying it and bending down to try different ways to pick it up, Eren eventually just grabbed it by the middle and flipped it up onto his shoulder.

It wasn't his apparent strength that caused Levi to cock a single brow however – he had worked out with the young man twice now (as he'd met him again that morning) – but the fact that as he bent back up, his dress slacks fell a bit. His tank top, because he'd removed his dress shirt to prevent it from getting dirty, had ridden up, revealing the upper lip of his underwear. Normally Levi wouldn't have taken interest in such a thing, except that Eren was quite obviously donning a strappy red jockstrap. Quite unnecessary for work.

He didn't seem to notice how he'd revealed himself either.

"Eren," Levi called his attention before he got to the door. "Your shirt." And pants, but it wasn't necessary to mention both. Appearing moderately alarmed, Eren glanced down at his hip, realizing quickly what the issue was. Eyes widening, he quickly pulled up the edge of his pants before pulling down his shirt, his face flushing red as he quickly turned to then leave the room. Except, despite his dexterity in being able to hold the table while he'd adjusted his clothes, he hadn't figured just how close he was to the door and as he went to retreat out of it, the side of the table slammed into the doorframe. Bouncing back, the piece of furniture weighed him back and with a great crash of breaking wood, both Eren and the table toppled to the floor.

Levi watched it all silently before sighing and shaking his head.

Rising from his chair, he made his way around the desk (because it wasn't  _his_  desk) and over to Eren, who was blinking up from the floor with a slightly dazed expression over his face. Arms crossed over his chest, Levi stood above him, waiting until he'd come back around to reality.

"You alright?" he asked a moment later.

"Uh, yeah," Eren replied, slowly sitting up. Glancing back at the table, he saw that it was sufficiently split in two, his sheepish eyes slowly turning up to Levi.

"It was trash anyway," Levi decided. "Just throw it in the dumpster and we'll pretend it was never here." Not the most responsible message to send, but it pulled a shy smile onto Eren's face, which Levi supposed was something. He was a very pretty young man after all, no matter his taste in daily undergarments.

Holding his hand out to help him up, Levi watched as Eren paused for only a moment before accepting the gesture. Standing, Eren was then deliberately avoiding eye contact, Levi finding it more and more amusing as the seconds ticked by.

"Ah, about… a minute ago…" Eren attempted to address the subject. "Sorry… about that…" About accidentally revealing himself? It was a strange thing to apologize for, and not entirely necessary.

"Don't worry about it," Levi assured, only momentarily letting him off the hook. "We all like to feel like vintage athletes sometimes." And though his tone was completely serious, the fact that he was teasing couldn't be over looked, Eren blushing all the more as he covered his face with his hand.

"It was all I had…" he muttered then, Levi doing his best not to let any sort of apparent humor slip onto his expression.

"Oh, very understandable," Levi nodded. "Because a bright red, strappy jockstrap is something every man has in his wardrobe, even on laundry day." It probably wasn't a topic he should continue to comment on, but Eren was just so thoroughly embarrassed. It was hard to resist.

"Point taken," Eren agreed.

"Not that I'm judging you," Levi added, still completely serious. "Let your freak flag fly, by all means." And he was sure, had there been even the slightest bit of humor in his voice, it wouldn't have been nearly as funny. But because he'd said it with a completely straight face, Eren hadn't been able to hold back smiling again, laughing a little despite the redness coating his cheeks.

"I'll be sure to do that Sir," he nodded, his lips pursing.

"Now pick up this table and get it out of here," he issued, Eren seeming to abruptly remember that it was splintered all over the floor. Turning quickly, he bent down to retrieve the pieces, very conscious of his pants and where they were sitting on his rear. Which was why, as they sank lower once again, he was surprised when, as he'd been about to reach back and pull them up, his hand instead went further for the table piece. His actions clicked in his mind, and he knew he was committing them, but the daring, gutsy weight in his stomach overcame his logic.

Thus, still watching the young man, Levi was surprised when Eren made no conscious effort to hide his blatantly revealed undergarment. Instead, he let it ride, some of the skin just below the top strap even visible as he leaned over, in no apparent hurry to pick up the two halves of the table. If Levi didn't know any better, he'd argue that he was doing it on purpose.

Eren, however, didn't address the subject. Instead, his face flushing an even deeper crimson, he finally retrieved the table bits before straightening and marching right out the door. Too afraid to look back, he rushed down the hall, through the lobby, and to the elevator, raising his toe and punching the button rather too harshly than probably needed. It was coming up already, Eren cursing its slowness when he finally got up the courage to look behind him.

Mr. Ackerman, however, wasn't there.

Releasing a relieved breath, Eren didn't realize he'd been quietly cursing his behavior until the doors opened and Armin stepped out.

"Who's an idiot?" he asked curiously when Eren nearly plowed him over to get in the elevator.

"Uh, gah, no one," Eren rushed as he pushed the ground floor button with his foot. The doors soon closed, Armin left alone and baffled as the lift began to go down floor by floor. Eren was alone, but only for a moment and, setting down part of the table so he could check to make sure his pants were all the way up, he decided it'd be wise to invest in a belt.

Soon a few others were standing in the little capsule with him, Eren forced into his own thoughts as he ground his teeth in irritation.

He couldn't believe he'd done something so stupid. And inappropriate. He'd just flirted with his boss. And not just any boss, but the vice president of the entire company. A man he barely knew and was a considerable amount older than he was. At work! He didn't even know if Mr. Ackerman was gay. Odds were, actually, that he wasn't. He didn't seem in any way stereotypically so. He probably wasn't.

And Eren had…

Oh god, what if Mr. Ackerman considered it harassment? What if he was reported? Or fired? Straight guys could be really sensitive to that sort of thing. Say Mr. Ackerman wasn't however, he'd still done it at work – the worst possible place. This couldn't end well, Eren knew it couldn't. He was going to lose his job!

Why,  _why_  had he done it?! Well, he knew why. Mr. Ackerman, despite being a little older, was a generally attractive man. This was undeniable. And Eren, in his stupidity, had done something that, well, only a stripper would do. Nice.

He was done for.

Somewhat panicked as he hit the bottom floor and headed out of the building, he continued to beat himself up until he reached the dumpsters. Even during the walk back, his brain was insulting him the whole time. It was only when he reentered the building and realized he had to go back  _up_  to Mr. Ackerman's office that total and complete dread set in.

Head bowed, he reached out for the up button. And then nearly jumped out of his skin when someone called his name.

Turning, he saw Armin walking his way.  _And Mr. Ackerman_.

"Don't bother going back up," their boss explained as they intercepted him, Eren doing his best to quell his blushing and likely failing. "I'm leaving for the day anyway." Had his eyes lingered on Eren longer than they should have? A millisecond longer? Ahhh, Eren couldn't tell!

"We'll see your tomorrow then," Armin decided, receiving a nod from his boss.

"Have a good evening Mr. Ackerman…" Eren said, his voice a little quieter than it probably should have been. Much to his horror however, his boss paused then in turning away. Looking back at them, he seemingly addressed them both, but was looking directly at Eren.

"You can both call me Levi," he added, blinking only once before finally walking away. Watching his retreating back, Eren was half gaping, astounded. Because after a show like what he'd just given, an invitation like that had hardly been what he'd expected.

How had this all become so confusing?

**oOo**

"You'd make more money if you did more than just the poles," Reiner was saying as Eren rubbed his shoulders and chest with body oil. "I'm betting that, after your shows, people would pay a pretty penny."

"I'm not interested," Eren said for the billionth time, a short laugh following after. "I make do just fine the way things are going." He continued to rub the oil down his middle, his legs folded up on the stool as he watched himself in the mirror. Behind him, he saw Reiner's broad form come up, his hands placed on Eren's shoulders as he grinned into the mirror.

"Why settle for less?"

"I'm doing this because I like dancing Reiner, not because I need the money. I have another job." Shrugging off the other stripper good humoredly despite his white lie, he continued his prep, not at all perturbed when the muscly blonde sat down on the stool beside him.

"I just think you're selling yourself short," he continued. "I mean, lap dances aren't that bad. And touching isn't allowed, so, really…" He shrugged.

"No thanks," Eren shook his head. He wasn't even the slightest bit interested. As of then, he was fully capable of paying both his and his mother's bills. There was no need to upgrade his services. Yet.

"You don't know what you're missing," Reiner spun on the stool, his nearly naked form glistening in the harsh light. Eren hardly paid it any attention however. He'd seen the man completely naked enough times to know exactly what to expect. Instead, he continued on with his regime, his assortment of masks spread out before him on the counter. Being a rather rash, sometimes unpredictable person, he always had all his stuff stored at the club. Generally he performed what came to him as he sat before the mirror, which would then require the correct costume. Seeing as he practiced dancing to music everyday, it wasn't that much of a stretch for him to simply pick something out. He had all kinds of routines memorized. It was also part of the reason why he didn't perform with anyone else. That required group practice, which was something he had no desire to deal with. Especially since he knew most of the other men working at the club didn't have any formal dance training (his mother had taught him). And he certainly wasn't going to teach anyone – not without getting paid for it.

"Alright gentlemen," a tall, masculine woman had come back into the dressing room, none of the men shying away from her as she entered. With harsh steps, slicked back hair, and pointed eyes, Ymir wasn't regarded by any of them as some kind of threat to their privacy. First off, she was the owner. Secondly, she was a lesbian, which apparently somehow nullified her. "The late shows are about to begin. Reiner, is your party going to be ready?"

"Yes ma'am," he mock saluted.

"And Eren, have you got your music?"

"I think so," he decided as he picked up an extravagant red-feathered peacock mask and held it up to his face. "How about a male cover of  _Pound the Alarm_ ," he wasn't exactly asking.

"Whatever you want Eren. Just make sure the DJ has it."

Satisfied, he turned back to the mirror, primping himself for only a moment longer as Reiner and his boys got together and started putting on their trench coat costumes. Eren, who didn't always make a show of actually stripping, decided that maybe he would that night. Heading over to where the costumes were, he started pulling out the pieces he wanted – most of which were more flamboyant than what the other acts used. Some of his performances could probably be considered more, well, feminine, or at least more "gay," but seeing as the club catered to both men and women, it wasn't exactly a big deal. That aside, he was usually so impressive that even if he wasn't someone's exact cup of tea, they still tipped well anyway. He tried to vary his roles however, so he would likely make up anything lost later. Women were more open-minded, and were usually surprised at what turned them on.

Satisfied with his choice of attire, he then communicated his music to the DJ before returning to the dressing room and beginning to replace what parts of him were exposed with clothes.  _Some_  clothes. Eren could admit it – though he wore clothes when appropriate, being without them was so much more comfortable.

Picking up a slightly adorned, mini red vest, he slipped it on, checking the easy releasing Velcro to make sure it was all situated correctly. It sat just below his chest, revealing his mid-section. He then grabbed a matching pair of red pants – the top belt adorned similarly to the vest – and pulled them on. They were cropped just below the knee and tightened with a string on each leg. He didn't bother looking for shoes. He didn't like shoes. Next, he began strapping a set of extravagant red feathers to his shoulders. Making sure they stayed away from his hips, he situated them on his back and up around his head. Looking in the mirror, he rolled his shoulders against the tight little straps that clung around him, some of the feathers fanning out around his elbows. That was the furthest they went however. He then grabbed up the red, feathered mask and slipped it on.

Ensemble complete, he listened to the escalating cheer out in the audience before making his way backstage. Ymir was there and looked him up and down once before focusing back on what was happening beyond the curtain. Taking that as affirmation that his act was adequate, he began running through what he was going to do in his head, Reiner's group beginning to finish.

Soon, they were off the stage, out in the crowd or heading into the back rooms behind the curtain. A few of the waiters began to pull back the second layer of curtains, revealing the poles, and Eren closed his eyes momentarily in order to calm his nerves. It didn't matter how many times he stepped out on that stage, it was always exciting. Always a thrill. He had yet to go out and come back disappointed in doing so.

The lights dimmed to a low red, as he'd directed them to be, and, taking one last, final breath, Eren slipped up to the back of the stage. In the shadows, he waited for the music to begin, the crowd beyond having quieted. When the extended intro with the tropical steelpan beat began, he readied himself to step out into the limelight.

His appearance was immediately met with the beginnings of applause. He made his way out in front of the poles, the music hitting an escalating siren note. Using that as his cue, he began to strut forward. Conscious of every movement he made, he focused his weight into his shoulders. Because "men" walked with their shoulders. "Women" rolled their hips, an action he had to stay away from. Hence why the feathers accented his shoulders. That was what the crowd wanted to see. He could dress as femininely as he wanted so long as he moved in the right ways. The right walk could make everything else irrelevant.

The music quickly picked up and Eren, despite the fast paced beat, moved every other, allowing his form to be slow as the introduction to the song came to it's climax before dropping into the chorus.

Knowing the stage by heart, he allowed his eyes to close as he maneuvered around the poles, his breathing steady as he felt the sweat beginning to accumulate on his skin. His insides shook with the pressure he placed himself under. A good pressure however – one that told him he was doing something right because it stemmed from his passion for his work. Some people might criticize it, consider it dirty or out of taste, but as he began to move up and down the poles, his body automatically knowing what to do, he could find nothing wrong with what he did. So what if it was sexy? So what if he was revealing his body for others to see? What was so shaming about the human form anyway? Something that made his heart beat so rapidly couldn't be bad. Even as he landed deftly back on the stage and ripped the shirt from his body, his hips thrusting forth in a rapid motion with the beat, he didn't feel even the slightest bit in the wrong.

What was wrong with being sexy? With taking advantage of the gifts he'd been born with? The crowd cheered, others appreciated it. No, there was nothing wrong. It was the world that was wrong and he wasn't going to let social stigmas alter what he enjoyed.

Thus he felt no embarrassment, no hesitation, when it came time for the chorus again, his fingers wedging their way into the waistband of his pants. Shimmying them down, the audience screamed even more as he kicked them aside. Left in only a skimpy G-string, he mounted the pole once again, his hips grinding forward as the feathers attached to his shoulders shuffled against his slickened skin.

Flipping and climbing up and down the pole, he soon found himself bowing forward towards the crowd, the music hitting a building section in the song that was accented by explosive beats at slow intervals. With each pound, he thrust himself forward at the crowd, his legs wrapped around the pole as his arms gripped back behind his head. And as it hit the final accent, he allowed his gaze to flash over the watching faces as he released himself from the pressure and skimmed down the pole.

Just before he collided with the stage, he grabbed ahold again, the crowd gasping as he came to a halt mere inches from a collision. Breathing heavy, he paused for only a moment to survey the eyes watching him.

And that was when he saw it. Or, rather, saw  _him_.

His body continued to finish the number, but his mind had ground to a halt. At first he thought he must have been mistaken. Yet that piercing, deliberate gaze and that sharply cut black hair – it had to be him. Though he sat in the back, at a table some four rows back, Eren knew there was no other man it could be.

Eyes focused on the stage, Levi Ackerman was watching him.

Initially, a sense of paranoia had overcome Eren. What if he was recognized? What if Mr. Ackerman (correction, Levi) ratted him out to the company and he lost his job? Because it certainly wasn't acceptable to have a secretary that was also a stripper.

But then he remembered that he was wearing a mask and that, beneath the deceiving light of the stage, no one would know who he was.

This calmed his mind some, but only in time for him to finally, actually realize what Levi being there meant. He was at a male strip club, which was reserved for only two kinds of people. Women that were interested in men, and men that were interested in men.

Did this mean that… that Levi was gay? The thought was boggling to Eren, who was now climbing the poles out of sheer habit. Yet, thinking back to earlier that day, was that why Levi hadn't been offended by his blatant flirting? Had he considered it flattering? Or…

Eyes widening behind his mask, Eren allowed himself to consider it.

Was it possible that Levi found him as attractive as Eren did the older man? Granted, he hadn't really considered that such a thing were even possible – never even entertained it. He'd found Levi attractive like he'd found any other male attractive (or not, were that the case). But there was no denying he was sitting in the club, watching the show. And that idea lifted butterflies in Eren's stomach.

It was hard, after all, finding someone to be interested in that was also interested in him. Yes, Eren lived in a big city, but he worked in an office and then on the underground. Most of the guys he met were either busy in suits or just looking for a good time, which wasn't something he was really interested in providing.

And as he ended the performance, it occurred to him that he actually did like Levi. He'd blocked out the potential because he'd known it was unrealistic, but he had flirted with him that afternoon and, well, the older man was charming in his own way. He was rude and bossy, but not in an offensive way. There was something about his manner – an effortlessness that echoed in his casual tone – that drew Eren in as well.

Yes, for what little he knew of him, he liked Levi.

But… then again, he was at a strip club. Did that mean anything? Eren supposed he couldn't judge however. Plenty of people went to strip clubs and that didn't make them perverts. Eren was a stripper himself for crying out loud. He was hardly in a position to be judging anyone else.

Besides, he didn't want to. Seeing Levi there had sent an exhilarated surge through his whole body, his skin prickling with excited nerves as he skipped to his stool in the dressing room and ripped off his mask. Staring at himself in the mirror, he saw that his cheeks were flushed. Not all of it was from sweat however, the idea of such bringing a smile to his face as he sat down and began unstrapping his feathers. His stomach was abruptly in knots, relaying to him how much higher the stakes had skyrocketed upon him spotting Levi there. Dancing the poles had become an enjoyable habit, but as the butterflies in his stomach refused to settle, Eren was renewed with a different kind of vigor. He wanted to impress Levi, even if the older man didn't know who he was.

Such feelings removed the natural atmosphere out of what he did, his head suddenly racing with what would be best to do next instead of just relying on instinct. He was actually thinking about it, his thoughts so preoccupied that he didn't even notice when Reiner sat down beside him.

When the other man spoke however, Eren's excitement came to a halting stop, frazzled as he was forced to focus elsewhere.

"Seriously? Feathers?" Reiner laughed shortly, Eren blinking before looking over at him. "You just keeping getting more and more ridiculous. If your performances get much gayer, we're going to lose our female fan base." His words sunk in slowly, Eren taking time to recover from being sidetracked.

Eyes narrowed, he felt his temper swell. "Excuse me?" he asked rather nastily.

"I'm saying you'd better be careful," Reiner continued. " _We_  all know you're playing for the other team, but you don't have to advertise it to everyone. We'll lose customers that way."

"It sounded to me like the women liked what I was doing just fine," Eren snapped back, his fuse popping quickly. Like always. "I think you're just jealous because I don't have to degrade myself to ridiculous ideas of masculinity to keep people coming back." Because the acts that Reiner and his group did were sometimes rather ridiculously clichéd.

"No, you don't," Reiner replied, his own tone sounding somewhat testy then. "Not that you could. I don't think I've ever seen you give a masculine performance since you started working here."

"And what's your definition of masculinity?" Eren hissed.

"Sometimes Eren, people want to be shown that you can dominate the pole, not the other way around." His words were biting, Eren fully aware that it sometimes rubbed the other guys the wrong way that he wasn't a traditional male stripper and still pulled in more successful performances than them. He didn't have to stick to the regular expectations of what male strippers were supposed to be, he was better. But no, he didn't set his acts within the typical boundaries of masculinity.

That didn't mean, however, that he couldn't.

"Fuck you Reiner," he turned away, spats between the two of them as regular as their friendly poking and prodding.

"You know I'm right," the blonde shrugged as he rose from his seat. "You act like you're a multitalented prodigy, but you've really only got one trick. One that you recycle over and over again." Backing away, he shrugged, Eren staring into the mirror as his high from the previous performance began to fade. His temper, however, was still there, and he had half a mind to turn back to Reiner and continue heatedly defending himself. But just as he was about to, Ymir came in and began pestering Reiner and his group about their next act, which was set to begin in five minutes. Scowling, Eren returned to his mirror, some of the feathers still strapped to his shoulders.

Reaching up, he ripped them off carelessly, too peeved to do otherwise. Where did Reiner get off, saying he wasn't masculine? What did that word even mean? He was perfectly comfortable with himself, his sexuality, and his masculinity. And he certainly didn't need to prove himself to anyone, let alone Reiner. He could do a more "masculine" dance if he wanted to, he just chose not to.

Turning, he watched as Reiner and the other guys began to march off stage dressed in what would be stereotyped as thug like clothing and Eren found himself wondering what was so appealing about it. To him, it looked violent and uninviting. Which was why he didn't take on such typical personas. Either they didn't fit his personality or seemed too cliché.

That  _did not_  mean, however, that he couldn't be Reiner's definition of masculine.

He'd do it all, and impress everyone in the process. Especially Levi.

Levi, who, to Eren, was more traditionally masculine; who came to work in a suit and tie in perfect order and drank coffee every morning while he read the paper at his desk. He was masculine.

He was, actually, rather inspiring.

Struck, Eren swiftly stood before he rushed to the costumes. A dark tie, a suit jacket, matching pull away slacks, and (the dreaded) black loafers (they had silver tips though, so it was okay). Tightening on the tie without a shirt under it, he then slipped on the pants and jacket, making sure to button the latter, before slipping his feet into the shoes (which were a half size too big, but he could make it work). Going to his pile of masks, he picked up a plain white one before strapping it on.

The final two touches were a black bowler hat and a cane tipped with silver detailing. Straightening the collar of his jacket, he then headed backstage where the DJ was, who glanced over at him while Reiner's act played, waiting for his next selection order.

"LoveStoned with the interlude," he said through the mask. He was going to Justin Timberlake the shit out of this place. He then gave his orders to lighting before heading down to wait for Reiner's group to finish. Ymir was there again, her shrewd eyes looking him up and down. He didn't miss the way her eyebrows rose in slight surprise. Just because he had a typical style didn't mean he couldn't vary outside of it. He didn't comment on her look however, instead watching as Reiner and his team rehearsed their same old number, his brain running through the steps he was going to take in his own.

Because there was no challenge he couldn't take on.

Soon enough, Reiner's show was over, Eren taking a single breath before heading out on stage. The curtain hadn't been pulled open yet to reveal the poles, the lights off completely – as Eren had ordered. Turning so his back would be to the audience, he situated his legs a shoulder-length apart and centered the cane to stand before him. Hands gripping the metal detailing, he evened his breathing and bowed his head, more than ready.

Hearing the Rogue Mask announced once again, Levi placed his phone on the table and focused his attention on the stage. The curtains were pulled aside, all that they revealed being shadows. The crowd quieted, as if able to sense the beginning of something, and it wasn't until silence reigned totally that the lights were switched on. First the overheads, which gave off a blue hue, and then a spotlight which perfectly silhouetted the man standing in the middle of the stage. It was faded out soon however, cheers erupting from the crowd as the white was dispersed to a kind of foggy glow coming from the bottom of the stage.

The quiet intro started, the dancer's shoulders seeming to pulsate with the beat before, in accordance with a seductive yelling of "hey" at the beginning of the song, he skillfully flipped the cane around in his left hand before slamming it back down on the stage. Following right after, he turned so his masked profile was visible, tapping the brim of his hat once with the beat.

" _She's freaky and she knows it,_ " his other hand had reached out, fingers snapping once before his whole arm seemed to waver with the music, the stiffness intended and fitting. " _She's freaky but I like it_."

His pointer finger came up snappily to point to his ear. " _Listen_."

Jacket flapping, he spun to face the crowd. Perhaps there were people cheering, perhaps there weren't. Levi was far too indulged to listen or care. The show had barely begun and already he couldn't bring himself to look away. There was just something mesmerizing about the way the dancer moved that pulled him in. That he couldn't throw off. Even as he took up a style unlike any Levi had seen exhibited previously, there was just something about his… body… that stirred Levi in ways he hadn't been in a long time.

" _It sends her on a trip so riiight,_ " he rolled his whole body to the last lyric, " _She might be goin' home with me tonight_." He hadn't even paid the poles any mind yet, his fancy footwork echoing greatly of the artist he danced to. Combined with his swift, abrupt hand movements, he gave off a kind of dominating masculinity that he hadn't exhibited in prior dances. It was driving the crowd quite crazy – in a good way – yet Levi heard none of it.

However, the lack of blatant pole-related sex did imply, at least to Levi's eye, training beyond perhaps what a typical stripper would possess. He wasn't just doing it for sexual appeal in those moments. No, his strict, coordinated movements spoke of experience beyond just pole dancing. And occasionally, when a draw in the music would call for it, his feet would drag skillfully across the stage in a mixture between Michael Jackson and dancing k-pop boy bands. Yet a moment later, it was expertly accented by a masculine shoulder or body roll, his jacket soon flying from his hands as he tossed the cane and spun, catching it a moment later as his finely toned chest was revealed to his viewers.

Every pose struck and move made was planned and passioned to the last breath, Levi able to at least respect his dedication, despite the tightness below his belt.

The footwork and subtle yet alluring dance continued until, finally, during the midway point in the song, he turned his attention to one of the poles. Having set the cane aside some time before, he held he new instrument firmly before beginning to walk upwards into the air. As if strutting down the sidewalk, he did a single circle up into the air before coming back down, his shoed feet hitting the emptiness as though it were ground.

Swiftly, as soon as he'd safely landed upon the stage again (the crowd screaming after his latest move), he spun once before pulling the pants from his person and throwing them back stage. He was left in only the hat, mask, tie, shoes, and a little black thong.

Soon following, the hat was tipped off and flicked across the stage to the side, his never-stopping feet carrying him back to the poles just as the interlude to the song – the slow, graduating portion – hit it's beginning.

Thus, his talents were revealed for all to witness once more as he began to climb, swing, and handle the poles as if they were a mere extension of his body. It was sensual, aggressive, and Levi wanted nothing more than to simply walk on that stage and pull the dancer down until he could have his way with him.

He couldn't, of course, and instead had to settle for simply gripping the table as the show came to a close.

Little did he know however that, feeling excessively high after the performance, the Rogue Mask pranced off the stage with a broad smile across his face, his eyes having been focused solely on a single older man the entire time.


	3. So You're Sexually Frustrated

Six o'clock in the morning and he was already up – despite having been up the previous night until well after midnight. Pulling his silver Ferrari spider into the parking lot of the café near work, he set it in park before exiting. He was on his way to the gym, but, like most mornings, needed a little pick-me-up. The sky was still lingering in darkness, only one other vehicle – a black motorcycle – parked outside the front of the café.

Dressed in his loose fitting, mesh workout pants, tennis shoes, and a gray sweatshirt, Levi knew he looked quite the opposite of what most people expected. But he wasn't on his way to work yet. Which was why he didn't feel at all underdressed as he pushed his way inside the air-conditioned café. However, who he saw standing at the counter did cause him some slight pause.

Hands shoved in the front pockets of his own tighter fitting, yet somehow still sagging gray sweatpants, Eren Yeager stood before the counter. On his feet were a pair of leather boots that reached up past his ankles, his pants accumulating on their rims, and his long sleeved, also tighter fitting navy shirt revealed that, like Levi, he'd expected the somewhat chillier weather of southern Nevada's winter months. His eyes were heavy, Levi could see that as he examined the young man's profile, and he startled when the women behind the counter finally addressed him (apparently he'd been waiting).

Rounding the entrance so he was then coming up behind Eren, Levi said nothing.

"Uh…" Eren was only about half awake. "I'll get that- the, uh- pumpkin spice latte." The barista nodded, taking his order, and would have gone about it had Levi not dragged up her attention.

"I'll have one of those too," his voice caused Eren to jump, who rounded to look back down at him in surprise. Green eyes wide, he then placed his hand against his chest, taking a deep breath. He hadn't heard anyone come in after him apparently, Levi getting a sick kind of satisfaction out of his reaction.

"O-okay," the barista replied, not accustomed to taking orders from two different customers at one time. But seeing as they were ordering the same thing, Levi didn't see the problem.

"You scared me," Eren said, that relieved smile people always got after getting an initial shock spreading over his face. And like before, Levi was reminded of how pretty a smile he did indeed have.

"I got that," Levi replied simply, blinking up at the taller man without even the slightest altering of his expression. "Do you come here often?" Because, though they'd been working out at the same time, this was Levi's first trip to the café that early in the morning.

"Uh, yeah, usually," Eren replied, his smile slowly fading. "It wakes me up, you know, gets me ready to face the day." He sounded mockingly determined, but Levi didn't acknowledge as much. Which left them both in a strange state of awkward silence until their drinks were brought over.

"Here, I'll get it," Levi volunteered as he stood beside Eren at the counter.

"Oh, uh, that's not necessary Sir," Eren replied.

"I know that," Levi stated in his typical cold manner. He didn't offer any further defense however, Eren uncertain whether it was okay to continue objecting. It was soon too late however – the barista had rung up the order and the drinks were paid for. Picking his up somewhat uncomfortably, Eren couldn't bring his gaze up to meet Levi again as the older man turned away and headed across the room to a table against the wall. One, because he wasn't sure what to make of Levi's cold kindness, and two, because he kept seeing the other man before him at the club and becoming speechless at the reality of having done so.

Like when they were at the gym however, they were the only ones crazy enough to be in the café that early as well. Which left Eren unsure of how to proceed. Was it acceptable to sit with Levi – was it expected – or was he supposed to find his own seat. He didn't want to offend his boss after all, but he also didn't want to invade his space. Perhaps it was better to just sit on his own. He could put his headphones in and pretend to take a "resting his eyes" nap. Yet, in the back of his mind, he wanted to sit with Levi. He wanted to learn more about the older man, but was too uncertain of what was acceptable in approaching him.

Levi, however, noticed the way he hesitated and took the initiative.

"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to the seat across from him. And Eren, who tried not to look too relieved at having been spared the decision, made his way over before setting his mug down across from Levi.

He wondered, fleetingly, what his coworkers would think if they knew he was having a casual cup of coffee with the vice president of the company.

"Why do you get up this early?" Levi asked suddenly, Eren in the middle of sipping his drink when he paused to flick his eyes up. Finishing with a swallow, he set the mug back down on the table, unaware of the cream mustache that lined his upper lip. Levi almost wanted to tell him, but then thought better of it. Eren, despite being a pretty boy, was rather dweebish otherwise.

"It's the only time I have really," he explained with a shrug. "My afternoons are busy," because he practiced dance every day after work, "and I have another job at night." Some nights.

"Ah," Levi nodded as he drank his own coffee, able to do so without leaving anything behind on his face.

"I want to stay in shape, so… I do what I have to." A momentary silence. "Why do you ask?"

"You can't be older than twenty-five," Levi made clear. "Usually someone of that age would be sleeping, not getting up two hours earlier than they have to." He'd been young once too after all. And were it not for the fact that he was disciplined with himself, he'd likely still being sleeping in longer than he really wanted to. Sure, he was up early so he could get his workout out of the way, but he'd never been entirely enthusiastic about the morning.

"I'm twenty-two," Eren clarified. "And… I don't know. I guess I'm just a morning person. Rise with the sun and all that."

"The sun isn't up."

"It's a figure of speech." And he actually got away with such sass. Levi didn't even give him a look, which was comforting to Eren and allowed him to relax slightly. "Besides, my mom was always up early and I guess I just… inherited it from her." At one point she'd have to go pick his father up from the nightshift at four in the morning. Which was why, even as a child, Eren had been up early. His mother hadn't wanted him to be home alone in the neighborhood they'd lived in, so he'd always had to go with her.

"It's a responsible mentality to have," Levi replied, Eren supposing he could take his words as praise.

"Yeah, sometimes, unless I'm up late the night before," Eren laughed shortly. "I'll go to bed early tonight, to say the least."

"Hmm, you and me both," Levi agreed, unaware that Eren knew exactly how late he'd been out. He couldn't say how long the older man had remained at the club after Eren had left, but he'd been there till nearly close.

"Are you one of those people that, even though they're not that old, goes to bed on the pretense of being so anyway?" Eren knew otherwise, obviously, but he couldn't help but grin slightly at the idea. Levi acted like a crotchety old man sometimes, which was actually kind of cute in its own way. The least he could do was tease him about it (if he didn't mind).

"I go to bed when I'm tired," was all he said however, not at all fazed by Eren's tone. Rather, his eyes then fell away, whatever humor that could have been taken from the comment sucked dry. He seemed preoccupied Eren realized, which caused him to frown. Because, despite how his heart had jumped in pleasure at the sight of Levi, it was apparent the older man hadn't had the same reaction upon running into him.

Yet somewhere in his gut his intense determination burned. He could get Levi's attention.  _All_  of his attention.

"Are you already tired then?" Eren asked, forcing the smile back onto his face.

"A little," Levi replied, still sipping in preoccupation.

"People your age should go to bed earlier." That got his attention, his narrowed eyes slipping to finally focus on Eren again. "It's not healthy to not get a full night's sleep." He tried to remind himself again that he was speaking to his boss, but his desire to get the man's attention otherwise was slipping into his judgment, swaying him, again, into foolish actions.

"I thought you just said I wasn't that old?" Levi said somewhat shortly.

"Well, maybe in comparison to some, but that doesn't mean you're young enough to be staying out past your bedtime." Eren knew that comment would hit it, his smile hidden behind his mug as he sipped more of his coffee.

Levi, somewhat surprised at Eren's newly developed attitude, stared at him for a moment before deciding on what to say. "How old do you think I am?"

Eren considered his answer carefully. "Mmm, based on how you act?" he paused thoughtfully. "Maybe early forties." Even though that wasn't even close. Levi was quite obviously in his late twenties to early thirties, and with a youthful appearance otherwise. Eren only deduced the truth because he'd looked up Levi's school experience on the internet.

"Early forties?" Levi was quite peeved then, Eren wondering if maybe he'd gone too far. "I act like I'm in my early forties?"

"Er, well, maybe not that old…" Quick, recover, recover!

"How old then?" Levi's voice was shorter.

"How… how old are you?"

No answer.

"Uh… early thirties maybe?" Eren jumped back another ten years, deciding that maybe he'd really pressed too far.

"Thirties?!" Levi said, apparently still rather irritated with the number. This surprised Eren, who, based on the math, assumed that was about how old he had to be. He then quickly considered Armin, who was a genius and had graduated early. What if Levi was one of those people and was only in his early to mid twenties? Was that what he wanted to hear?

"I… I don't know…" Eren was actually beginning to panic a little, Levi's sharp eyes boring into him.

"I can't believe this," Levi huffed angrily, Eren practically flinching away. "No wonder Hange won't leave me alone. I've worked this whole time to convince people I'm older than I look and it's done no good whatsoever."

Eren blinked. "Wait… what?"

"I'm only thirty-two," he finally clarified. "But when people know you're young, they bother you to do things like drink and party."

"So… you want people to think you're older?" Eren asked rather incredulously.

"It works to my convenience sometimes." He continued to nonchalantly sip his coffee. "You'd be surprised how much less bothersome people can be if you pretend to be older than they are. Not that you'd know." That last slip took Eren by surprise, having never been directly insulted by Levi before.

"What does that mean?" he asked heatedly.

"It means that you're a brat with the attitude of a seventeen year old."

Eren gaped. And, honestly, tried not to be hurt by Levi's words. Was that really how he viewed him? Did Levi… find him annoying? Was he one of the bothersome people he'd eluded to? But he'd invited him to sit with him, hadn't he?

"Though I guess that has its own charm," Levi continued, softening the blow some. "Not everyone has the ability to be dorkishly blundering into their twenties after all." Yet he seemed to take it back just as quickly.

"Dorkishly blundering?" Eren gaped. "What does that mean?!" His offense surged, but even as it did, he saw the way Levi looked away, his sharp eyes crinkling a little more at their edges. And were it not for the fact that the longer he'd sat there, the more attractive he'd found his boss (despite the insults), he might not have noticed it. Because, despite the way his lips remained in a firm line, Eren realized that this was Levi's own version of a knowing smirk.

He was saying all of this on purpose.

Feeling his annoyance seep away, Eren crossed his arms over his chest as Levi refused to acknowledge him further. It was taking time, but Eren was beginning to catch on to Levi's sense of humor. It was so dry, in fact, that more people were likely to miss it entirely. But Eren, who was determined to get to know this man better, was beginning to adjust.

"Better a teenager than a crotchety old man," Eren decided, finishing his cup of coffee and realizing, for the first time, that he had cream all over his upper lip. It occurred to him as he wiped it away that he shouldn't be surprised Levi hadn't told him.

"I never said anything about being crotchety," Levi corrected.

"That's why I said it," Eren replied.

"You  _are_  a brat."

Eren grinned.

"C'mon, let's go," Levi stood abruptly, calm as ever. "We're going to be late." He'd glanced down at his watch. Yet, based on the time, Eren could only assume that he meant late for working out. The idea that Levi was lumping the two of them together, as if they were a pre-identified group, made Eren's stomach tighten with tense butterflies. Standing, he followed Levi up to the counter to return their mugs before trailing him to the door – a small smile on his face the whole time.

The sight out in the parking lot caused him to drop his jaw in shock however.

"Is that a Ferrari?" he choked out, determining that the only other car in the lot had to belong to Levi.

"Yeah. So?" Levi didn't even look at him as he headed down across the parking lot. And Eren, who watched him walk away for only a moment, decided that it would likely only irritate Levi if he continued on about the car. Because Levi seemed like the type that could appreciate nice things (like well-tailored suits), but didn't like needless attention drawn to them. He was what he was and wasn't attempting to impress. That he owned an incredibly expensive car was simply to his taste, not a status symbol. At least, not in the ordinary way.

Eyes still drawn to the car however, Eren watched as Levi slipped in, his own feet carrying him to his motorcycle across the small lot. Picking his helmet up off the back seat (he hadn't been worried about leaving it there), he slipped it on over his head just slowly enough to watch Levi pull out of the parking lot and head on down the road. Soon he was following after, the sun finally beginning to creep up into the sky. Other commuters were on the move as well, traffic beginning to clog as Eren trailed Levi with a few cars in-between.

The company parking lot was still relatively empty though, Eren parking in his usual back spot while the silver Ferrari was expertly driven to one of the spaces nearest the front of the building. Forcing his feet to walk at a regular pace, Eren strolled across the parking lot to the front steps, where Levi was standing. He had his phone pulled out, his fingers poking at the buttons in a texting manner. And when Eren reached him, he didn't even bother looking up before turning and heading up the stairs. Assuming he was supposed to follow, Eren did so, uncertain whether Levi required silence while he sent his messages.

They made their way to the gym, Levi eventually putting his phone away, but remaining silent nonetheless. Separating once they reached the locker rooms, Eren went to his rented locker and placed his bag inside – which contained his work clothes – before shimmying off his boots, pants, and shirt to reveal shorts and a tank top. Retrieving his tennis shoes from the locker, he quickly tied them before heading out into the gym.

Levi was already there, stretching himself out on the mat. Thus far, all their workouts "together" had been, well, separate. They'd kept to themselves and Eren had made a conscious effort to remain as far away from Levi as possible. However, as he approached the mats, he plucked up his courage and sat down at a distance that, though it wasn't entirely too close to the other man, wasn't the farthest he could be either. Beginning his stretches, the silence continued as they started their regular routines.

Eren, however, who didn't want to appear as if he were following Levi everywhere he went, rushed his stretching slightly. He finished first and, standing, made a beeline for the treadmills, which was where Levi usually went and why Eren had been detouring to the bikes. Nonchalantly placing his ear buds in his ears, he went to what had once been his regular treadmill.

Levi wasn't as daft as Eren seemed to think he was however. But he didn't blame the younger man for tiptoeing the way he was either. Levi's position could be intimidating, he knew that, especially for someone in Eren's station. Which was why he was doing his best to make the young man comfortable. And because it irritated him how fidgety he got whenever they were alone. It was cute, in a way, but Levi would rather he just acted like he normally would. He was beginning to find that Eren was a great deal more sociable than he'd previously acted, which was fine with Levi. Contraire to what one would think based on his personality, he wasn't opposed to friendly company, or company at all really when it wasn't obnoxious (Hange). Eren was pleasant and he bafooned enough to be at least entertaining. And he wasn't stupid – otherwise Levi wouldn't have anything to do with him.

The boy just needed to relax.

Levi figured he had succeeded in seeming more approachable however. He knew what Eren was doing, dashing over to the treadmills first. And it was fine with him. If the treadmill was what Eren had originally utilized, all the more power to him. Levi could join him.

Standing, he did just that, waltzing his way casually over and taking up the machine next to Eren. Those green eyes didn't look over as he did, music no doubt playing to block out the sound. None of it bothered Levi. Setting the treadmill to his own settings, he pulled up the book he'd brought, set it up before him, and went on his way. He could hear Eren breathing beside him, but the smooth, rhythmic beat didn't bother him. And when some fifteen minutes had passed and they were both sufficiently sweaty, he found that the disgusting smell didn't bother him that much either. Rather, Eren's sweat. Actually, the longer they jogged, the less and less it bothered Levi at all, which was saying something seeing as the idea of someone else's sweat was usually enough to disgust him anyway.

By the time they both came to a halt, Levi was almost having to remind himself that he didn't like sweat. Eren, whether he was smiling, falling, or even flirting (because Levi had noticed that too), the descriptive word "sweet" always seemed to come to mind. Not sweet like sugar, but sweet like vanilla and cinnamon. Which was odd because Levi didn't usually think such things. Maybe just saying he smelled like things in the kitchen was a broader way to describe it. And that also didn't make it necessarily a compliment.

Yes, Levi decided that was better.

"You smell like a kitchen," Levi then made his sentiments known as Eren pulled his ear buds out, the two of them off the treadmills.

"Uh… okay?" Eren replied, his eyebrows furrowing at the odd statement. "I mean, we're both all sweaty. Neither of us smells very good." Levi didn't comment further however, allowing Eren's thoughts to remain as they were. Instead, he went over to the weights, picking out the ones he deemed suitable. And Eren, who seemed to fidget before walking over as well, avoided the weights and instead went to one of the machines.

Levi rolled his eyes.

For a moment, silence reigned supreme. Until, that was, the echoing sound of a vibrating phone punctured the air. Weight still in one hand, Levi reached into the pockets of his shorts before pulling the contraption to his ear.

"Hello?" his cold, disinterested voice greeted.

" _Good morning Levi!_ " Petra replied enthusiastically.

"Why are you calling me this early?" he asked, already having been preparing to ask the question when he'd seen her on his caller ID. On the other side of the weight area, he could see Eren pretending not to listen. Not that the brat was to blame. It was hard not to eavesdrop when they were the only two in the room.

" _I knew you'd be up,_ " Petra replied easily, not at all fazed by his chilled attitude. " _And it's so hard to get ahold of you when you're at work_." What could he say? He was a very busy man.

"What if I'd decided to sleep in?" he continued.

" _You didn't, so it doesn't matter,_ " she replied, quite past the subject.

Levi sighed. "What do you want Petra?"

" _Well, I was jogging yesterday afternoon and happened to come across some of our new neighbors. You know, the ones that I had told you moved in down the street from us._ " Petra's neighbors, not Levi's. " _They seemed really nice and I thought, we should have a small party inviting them to the neighborhood. So I told them that tonight a whole bunch of us were getting together for a cookout. And I thought that you should come, you know, even though you don't live here anymore._ "

"Tonight?" Levi asked. "That's a bit short notice. Maybe I have plans."

" _Then don't come,_ " Petra huffed. " _Isabel and Farlan already said they were coming too, but if you don't want to, then-_ "

"I can come," Levi interrupted. "What time?"

" _Oluo is starting the grill at seven o'clock sharp. Bring some drinks or something with you. Or a date, you know, if you have one._ "

"Why would I have a date?" Levi asked.

" _I'm just saying,_ " Petra sighed. " _If you happened to meet anyone nice at work. Or even just friends you've made at work. Whatever._ "

"You don't want anyone I work with at your house," Levi replied, the image of Hange appearing in his head. "Trust me." He hadn't been paying attention to the way Eren had looked away, pretending to focus on anything but the conversation.

" _I thought you were once roommates with your boss though?_ " He could hear her frown through the phone. " _Are you two not on good terms then?_ "

"Erwin and I are fine," Levi shrugged. "But he's not the type I would invite to a cookout."

" _ **Fine**_ **,** " she huffed again. " _Come alone then._ "

"I will."

" _Good._ "

"I'm hanging up now."

" _Fine._ "

Silence.

"I'll see you later," Levi eventually caved, his voice flatter than usual.

" _See you then!_ " Petra replied happily, their conversation coming to an end. Shaking his head, Levi shoved his phone back into his pocket before focusing again on his weight lifting. He didn't even consider that any of the comments he'd made had offended anyone, or put them off. Rather, the silence that continued through the rest of the morning he attributed to nothing special, completely ignorant of the way Eren had sighed to himself. And was frowning down at the gym floor.

None of it even came to mind.

**oOo**

"I'm so glad you could come!" Levi listened as Petra greeted the newcomers to the barbeque. Her flowery voice ran out across the lawn, drawing the attention of the small child sitting in Levi's arms. Beside him sat Oluo, a beer in his hand as he continued chatting about how proud of a father he was. Standing by the grill was Gunter, having taken over cooking duties when Oluo had nearly burned his eyebrows off. And sitting at the picnic table was Eld and his girlfriend, as well as Farlan and Isabel, the latter of who was telling some kind of extravagant story with her arms flailing.

The home of Oluo and Petra was quaint, the backyard just big enough for a party of their size. It was identical to every other house in the Las Vegas suburb, but Petra had done her best to pretty it up as much as possible. A newly acclaimed stay-at-home mother as well, there were toys scattered over the lawn, all of which belonging to the young man in Levi's arms, who was turning six-months old next weekend and who's "party" (who threw a six-month old party?) Levi had the obligation to attend. He had been given the label of uncle and godfather after all.

Petra was now escorting the newest arrivals onto the lawn, Levi far too distracted to look up at them. The tiny monster he was holding had just leaked spit down his chin, Levi pursing his lips as he reached over and grabbed the napkin that was sitting on his now empty plate. Wiping the child's face, he didn't stop until it was sufficiently clean again, Oluo sighing beside him.

"Kids are dirty you know," he started.

"They don't have to be," Levi made perfectly clear.

"Mr. Ackerman!" The surprised address took Levi aback, his eyes flicking up to see who had addressed him so offensively. "I-I mean, Levi." It was none other than Armin, his assistant.

"Armin," was all he said in response.

"You two know each other?" Petra asked as she looked between the three who she'd just welcomed into the yard and the one holding her child.

"Yes," Levi replied easily. "Armin is my executive assistant." The child was now pulling on the collar of his dress shirt, Levi watching as it got suspiciously close to his disgusting maw.

"Really?!" Petra sounded far too excited about this development. "Amazing! What a coincidence."

"Er, yeah," Armin was rather uncomfortable with having to see his boss again when they'd only been apart some two hours before.

"Is Levi still a tight-ass boss?" Oluo asked then, leaning forward on the lawn chair into which he'd placed himself.

"Uh…"

"Oluo," Petra scolded. "Levi was not a tight-ass when we worked for him."

"Yeah, you practically idolized him!" Gunter shouted from the grill where he was flipping burgers.

"I did not!" Oluo was blushing.

"You all worked for him?" The woman that had come with the new group asked, her straight, unadorned voice drawing Levi's attention. She was of Asian decent, her shiny black hair cut short. The man beside her was taller, his ashy brown locks trimmed and his long face somewhat horsish.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Petra laughed. "Like I was originally going to say, Levi, Oluo, these are the new neighbors, Armin (who one of us already knows), Mikasa, and Jean." She smiled. "And yes, some of us had worked for Levi once." She pointed them out accordingly. "He was our boss before he got the job at ES Research."

"So if you have any complaints about him, we totally understand!" Gunter shouted again, Armin smiling awkwardly. Levi was hardly paying attention however. Tobin, the child, was now pulling the buttons on his dress shirt, Levi having to reach down to remove his grubby fingers before they soiled everything.

"Levi's really not that bad," Petra defended rather loudly before smiling again at Armin. Just as quickly however, she frowned, seeming to look over her new neighbors critically. "I thought you said there were four of you."

"Oh, yeah, our other roommate is going to be a little late," Jean started to explain. "He's, uh, at his… dance practice."

Levi furrowed his eyebrows then, finally glancing fully up at the group. "Eren's a dancer?" The question came out just a cold as ever.

"You know their other roommate too?" Petra asked in surprise.

"He works at ES Research as well," Levi explained to her. "Downstairs though. Not for me." At least, not officially. The young man had been cleaning out his office, but that hardly seemed like a relevant fact to bring up.

"Er, yeah, he is," Armin replied in response to the original question. It was apparent that he was uncomfortable however – he hadn't been expecting to run into his boss – and, sensing this, Petra ushered them over to the table to introduce them to the others living in the neighborhood, Levi once again left alone to the vices of the child-monster in his arms (because Oluo certainly wasn't any help with his own son).

Outside in the driveway, as it was nearing eight in the evening, a motorcycle pulled up beside the driveway. Otherwise it was crowded with cars, as was the street nearest. And as the rider removed his helmet, his eyes fell to a dark silver Ferrari. Brows furrowed, he approached it in surprise, wondering, fleetingly, how many dark silver Ferraris there could be in Las Vegas. Probably a good number, but still…

Green eyes narrowing, Eren made his way around the back of the house (as he'd been directed to do), his gaze occasionally dropping back to the suspicious car. As he reached the gate leading into the backyard, where he could here the barbeque in full swing, he decided it wasn't worth pondering over. He'd know soon enough.

Pushing his way into the backyard, he immediately started hunting for his roommates. Quite obviously because he wasn't going to know anyone else. Or, rather, he wasn't supposed to. What he didn't notice was Petra as she turned around in front of Levi, who'd been attempting to hand her child back. Or the way she "ohhhed" and said "he's awfully pretty" as he fully entered.

"He looks scruffy if you ask me," Levi had said in response, not impressed with Eren's holy jeans, black tank top, and green zippy sweatshirt. Petra was ignoring him however, prancing her way instead over to the newest guest as Levi begrudgingly took the child back in his arms.

"You must be Eren," Petra said happily as she bounded up to him. "I'm Petra." A bright, inviting smile.

"Ah, Mikasa mentioned you," he replied, returning her expression. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Petra started then as she took his arm and began to pull him across the lawn, much to Eren's surprise, "but you're really pretty."

"Uh… thanks?" Eren replied with an awkward laugh.

"Are you gay?" Eren blinked at her forwardness. "Because I have excellent gaydar and I've been trying to set up one of my friends forever. Not that I'm trying to be one of those annoying girls that wants to hook up all her gay friends, but I just thought if you were interested."

"Ah…" Eren was a little lost at this point. "That's very flattering, but-"

"Oh, Eren," she smiled then, "you already know my good friend Levi Ackerman, don't you?" Eren looked over and saw the vice president sitting in a lawn chair, a child pulling temperamentally at his lips as he seemingly glared up at them. "Why don't you just sit right here and talk while I go get you a plate." And she practically shoved him down into the chair that another man had just hastily vacated – as if anticipating her actions.

"O-okay…" Eren sank down as commanded.

"What would you like?"

"Ah…" he considered for a moment. "Anything is fine. Just… I'm a vegetarian…"

"Really?" Petra seemed far too pleased by the turn of events. "You're in luck. Levi's a vegetarian too so we always have something for him. You wait right here and I'll be back." She skipped off then, Eren attempting to settle into the chair despite how awkward it actually was.

"You're a vegetarian?" he asked a few moments later as he glanced over at Levi.

"Yes," was the cold response he earned. "Animals are dirty. Do you know anything about children?"

"Uh, well, I used to babysit when I was a teenager…"

"Here, take this then." And Levi tried to hand him the foreign child.

"I'm not going to take some kid I don't even know," he shied away as Levi held the little boy up to him, who was kicking and giggling as if it was all a good time. "You had him first."

"I'll fire you if you don't take the kid."

"You can't do that!"

"…"

"…"

"You're a brat," Levi decided as he took the child back, holding it against his chest quite against his will. He'd already removed his work jacket, so he didn't have to worry about soiling that, but this was a good shirt and the little monster wouldn't leave the buttons alone.

"You don't like kids?" Eren asked.

"Only when I'm not the one who willingly asked to put up with them," he replied, patting the boy on the back as the little thing stared over at Eren with a silly grin on his face. "You never told me you were a dancer." Awkward change of subject.

"You… never asked," Eren replied, glad that Levi was paying attention to the baby and hadn't seen the way his face had flushed.

"Eren!" Thankful for a distraction, Eren watched as Armin, Mikasa, and Jean made their way over to his position, plates held in their hands. "When did you get here?" Armin was speaking.

"Just a few minutes ago," he explained, wondering if it was okay to get up or not. He didn't want to offend Petra.

"Armin," Levi addressed his assistant. "Take this child. I'll fire you if you don't."

"Uh…" And Armin didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"Levi, quit being a grouch," Petra scolded as she joined the group once again. "He's your godson and you hardly ever see him. Don't go handing him off to anyone else. Eren, here's a plate for you," and she handed him his food.

"She didn't bring us our food…" Jean mumbled as he shoved a sausage into his mouth.

"I didn't ask for that responsibility," Levi made perfectly clear.

"I don't care," Petra shrugged and Levi did something of a cross between a growl and a sigh as he pulled the child back down into his lap. Eren smiled about it and Levi glared at him when he spotted as much, which made Eren focus decidedly down on his meatless plate of food.

"So Eren, you work at ES Research too?" Petra asked, sounding far too interested were anyone being honest.

"Uh, yeah, I'm a… receptionist…"

"He's been helping Armin clean out my office," Levi offered so she'd understand why, exactly, they knew each other.

"Oh, okay," she nodded in understanding. "And you're studying dance? That's what Armin said."

"You could… say that," Eren replied.

"Are you any good?" Levi asked, not sounding entirely invested in the question. Or the subject for that matter.

"I like to think so."

"He sucks," Jean interjected with a cough.

"Fuck you Jean," Eren rebuked before he could stop himself. Petra raised her eyebrows in surprise at his language (not because she wouldn't say something like that, but because it usually wasn't a word used in new company), and both Armin and Mikasa sighed.

"Ignore them," Armin said through gritted teeth. "They're always like this." Both Eren and Jean frowned at his allusion, but decided that, because they were in public, they should probably behave themselves. It went against their typical nature, but sacrifices sometimes had to be made.

"Oluo!" Levi shouted suddenly, taking some of them aback. "Come take your child!" Petra shoved her fists onto her hips, looked even more displeased, and Eren nearly choked on a celery stick while trying to hold back a laugh. Mikasa patted him on the back.

"No can do boss-man," Oluo replied from his position beside Gunter at the grill. "Don't work for you anymore which means I answer to the boss-lady now," Petra smiled, "and she said you have to hold Tobin all night because you haven't been over it two months to see him. Or us." He sounded somewhat sourer at the end.

Levi sighed again.

"Sounds like a party happening over here, huh?" Another woman had come over, her bright red hair tied up in short pigtails. "I'm Isabel," she introduced herself pointedly to Eren. "And no Levi, I'm not taking Tobin," she made perfectly clear when he held the baby out to her.

"Levi, you try to carelessly hand off my child again and I can't be held accountable for what I might do," Petra shrugged innocently, Levi simmering silently as he began to pat the child on the back again.

"Did you work for him once too?" Mikasa asked then, addressing Isabel and obviously referencing Levi.

"Me? No," Isabel shook her head. "Farlen and I moved to Vegas with Levi a long time ago. The three of us grew up together in Detroit." Mikasa nodded in her unattached way and Eren listened intently, wanting to learn as much about Levi as possible. It was interesting, however, that the connections between everyone there seemed to come back to Levi. Almost as if he'd been the rock in every one of their lives at some point. It occurred to him abruptly that Levi was the center of the friend group, however odd that seemed. Though it was Petra's house (and Oluo's?), Levi seemed to gather everyone to him despite how, perhaps, he didn't want to. After all, Farlan and Isabel had moved to Vegas  _with_  Levi, not Levi and Farlan  _with_  Isabel. The others had worked  _for_  Levi. Their loyalty to him was clear.

And curious. Mostly because he was so prickly and unapproachable that he didn't seem the type to pull in people the way he apparently did. Then again, from what Eren had heard, hadn't President Smith specifically sought out Levi? Why? What was so special about him?

What inspired such devotion?

The conversations between the new and old acquaintances continued on for some time then, the sun sinking out of the sky until all that ignited the yard were the solar powered yard lamps and the glow emanating from inside the house. Most of the party had slowly migrated to the tables under the awning attached to the porch, Petra the last to be called away by a distressed Oluo. She'd been interrogating Eren under the pretense of conversation (and he'd done a good job of not revealing more than he'd wanted). Thus it was only he and Levi left in the lawn chairs, Tobin still in the older man's arms as Eren looked over at them.

Levi had long since lost interest in the conversation however, his eyes having closed as he cradled Tobin against his shirt. And as Eren watched his chest slowly rise and fall, he came to the realization that Levi must have fallen asleep. Mostly because, despite how he struggled, Tobin was getting no response out of his captor. Wiggling and pulling, he was beginning to tear up under Levi's heavy hold, Eren pursing his lips as he watched.

Looking again to Levi's calmly sleeping face, he decided that perhaps it was time to hand the child off to someone else. Standing, he bent over and, despite how his face blushed with red, removed Levi's hands from around the struggling child before easily lifting him up and onto his own shoulder. Supporting Tobin up under his butt, Eren took a step back before bouncing the child easily up and down in his arms. He immediately quieted, far too distracted with watching Eren up close (a stranger) than being upset.

"See, nothing to be sad about," Eren said quietly as he deftly swung his upper body back and forth, swinging the child from side to side in an attempt to calm him. "Isn't this fun? Levi sure is a grumpy old man, but he's not so bad." The baby seemed to be tired, the rocking causing his eyes to slowly droop as his head fell down across Eren's shoulder. "No wonder you're angry," Eren continued to coo at him. "You should be in bed I think. Too late for babies."

"You seem to have experience with kids." Levi's voice nearly caused Eren to drop the poor child. Turning back to the lawn chairs, he saw his boss fully awake and functional, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward from his seat.

"You scared me," Eren muttered, not wanting to speak too loud in case he revived the child in his arms. After a moment – he needed one to pull himself together – he finally found the words to address Levi's statement. "After my mom couldn't dance anymore, she opened an in-home daycare. Sometimes I helped." I shrugged, preferring not to focus long on the subject. Like so many things with his mother, this career venture hadn't ended well. "Why?" Eren flashed Levi a smile then.

"No reason," he replied coldly. "It's just obvious that you know what you're doing." A skillset that Levi was lacking.

"Maybe," Eren looked down at the top of the baby's head, supposing that, someday, having such a thing might not be all that terrible.

"You'll make a good father someday," Levi observed, Eren so taken aback by the comment that he frowned, unable to respond. "It's obvious just by the way you look at that kid that you'll have your own eventually." And if the way he looked at a stranger's child said anything, how he'd look at his own was likely far more revealing.

"You don't want kids?" Eren asked genuinely, still rocking Tobin back and forth.

"I don't know that I want anything," Levi replied as he sat back in his chair. "Alone, no, I won't have any."

"Well usually that's not how it works," Eren was smiling again.

"I mean that, if I do have any, it will be because I was persuaded."

"You don't want kids then," Eren deduced.

"No, that's not what I said," Levi made perfectly clear, Eren furrowing his eyebrows. "If whoever I'm with wants kids, then I won't be opposed to the idea. No matter how disgusting they are."

"So are you just saying that you want kids with whoever you marry, in a round about way, or that you're just a huge pushover and will do whatever your wife tells you?" Eren chose his words carefully despite how flippantly they left his mouth. After all, Levi didn't know who he was when the night came, or that he'd seen him at the club.

"I'm saying that if my partner wanted kids that badly, I know I'd oblige them." And Eren took note that he didn't say "wife." Someone who hadn't been listening for such a detail might not have noticed, but Eren certainly did. Smile returning to his face, he focused down on Tobin, pretending that, perhaps, it was the child that pulled such an expression from him.

God, he was so easy. Falling so hard and quickly. Why did it always happen this way?

"I think it just means you're a pushover," Eren murmured, still swinging the child from side to side, though softer at this point. He'd long since fallen asleep.

"Perhaps," was all Levi said in response.

"Oh, so Levi finally got Tobin shoved off on someone else then did he?" Petra had come back to join them, a playful smile hovering about her lips. "Well, I suppose you paid your dues," she was looking at Levi. "Just come around more often and this won't have to happen again."

"I'm sorry I was busy getting a new job," Levi stated, ever chilly, "and moving."

"Levi used to live in this neighborhood too," Petra explained to Eren as she wordlessly took Tobin from his arms, no objections met. "But he decided that he wanted to go live in the big city and abandoned all of us."

"There was no point in me keeping a house by myself," Levi defended half-heartedly. He didn't expand on the subject either however, Petra rolling her eyes for Eren to see as she resituated Tobin in her arms.

"I'm taking him in to bed," she said a moment later, the subject of Levi's move dropped. "You guys should come inside. The mosquitoes are starting to come out." Turning on her heel then, he skirt waving out behind her, she headed back the way she'd come, Eren watching her for only a moment before turning back to Levi.

The older man was standing as well, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of the chair before shaking the accumulated filth from it and laying it over his arm. Without a word, he started to head for the house, Eren bustling after him. He'd hoped that maybe Levi would remain outside with him for a moment longer, but apparently not. He tried not to frown.

A loud, popping explosion drew both of them to pause a second later however, the two turning to see that, a few yards down, someone was setting off bottle rockets. There was the sound of adults and children laughing alike, Eren chuckling once to himself.

"Childish," was all Levi said before heading back toward the house.

"Why do you say that?" Eren asked as he caught up with him. "They're not hurting anyone." Which was true. Granted, bottle rockets could be harmful, but it was clear that whoever was setting those off was doing it for entertainment of children and the situation was likely under control.

"There's nothing entertaining about sending something up into the air just to destroy it," Levi explained. "All it does is leave litter all over. Which most of the time people don't pick up."

"Kids enjoy watching it though…" Eren defended.

"Yes, I suppose kids do," Levi replied. There was something about the tone of his voice however that caused Eren to furrow his brows. It wasn't as though it was directly insulting or anything, but there was still something about it that Eren knew he was missing. And just before they were about to walk into the house, it hit him.

Stopping dead, he gaped slightly as he watched Levi vanish inside, his whole body becoming cold. He hadn't even considered it before, that he could be viewed in such a way, but it was the only conclusion he could come to. Levi hadn't bothered arguing with him further on the subject not because he hadn't had anything to say, but because he'd assumed it would be futile. Because, when he looked at Eren, he didn't see an adult. He saw a kid.

Levi looked at him and saw nothing more than a child.

**oOo**

"So…" Petra had plopped down on the couch beside Levi. Aside from him, she and Oluo were the only ones left in the house (and Tobin). Everyone else had gone home. "That Eren boy was pretty cute." Levi immediately furrowed his eyebrows over at her. "You should ask him out."

"What?"

"I'm serious," Petra continued to pester. "He seems like a nice guy and he's super cute. Pretty. Maybe even beautiful. He is awfully good looking. You should go out with him!" She'd grabbed his arm and started pulling on it, as if that would somehow convince him.

"Eren Yeager?" Levi shook his head. "No. Sorry."

"What? Why?" Petra was clearly offended.

"Because," Levi couldn't see how it wasn't obvious. "He's a kid. Besides, he's not my type." Yes, even Levi could admit the boy was cute, but he was far too clutzy and dweebish. And dorkish. Jean was probably right about his dancing skills, if Levi's experience with Eren said anything on the matter.

"He's not a kid," Petra scolded. "And… I guess there's a bit of an age difference between you," he stared at her, "but he's really nice and I don't see what you mean by 'not your type.' I know Ian was more… put together maybe, but Eren is really, really cute!"

"Is that the only defense you have for him?" Levi asked. "You're right, he is cute, but that's all. He's not my type." It was her turn to stare at him and he sighed. "I don't want someone I have to worry about Petra. The kid's a receptionist that clearly is still working toward some… future goal. Like a college student." Maybe he  _was_  a college student, for all Levi knew. "That's not something I want to deal with."

"I just worry about you," Petra frowned. "You haven't gone out with anyone since Ian broke up with you," because he wanted that reminder. "It's been almost two years. You should, you know, put yourself back out there."

"Maybe I don't want to put myself 'back out there.'"

"That's just immature. Ian was an asshole. You shouldn't let what he did keep bothering you."

"Petra, he cheated on me," he deadpanned. "In my own bed."

"I bet Eren wouldn't cheat on you," she shrugged awkwardly.

"He'd probably be more likely to cheat on me," Levi reasoned. What with him being so young and all. And he had flirted with Levi using a jockstrap, so there was that promiscuity to consider. He'd been young once too after all. He knew how things could go.

"It can't be healthy Levi, keeping all that… bottled up inside."

"What?" Levi's eyebrows came together harshly. "Are you referencing sexual frustration?" Petra actually face-palmed herself then. "You don't know what I do in my free time." His personal life was, honestly, none of her business.

"What have you been doing?" She latched on right away however, her big eyes staring at him hungrily.

"Nothing," he waved her off.

"Oh c'mon Levi," she grabbed his arm again. "Did you meet someone? Who is it? What haven't you been telling me?" He couldn't tell if she was angry with him or simply interested. Not that he cared much either way.

"I haven't met anyone," he replied, realizing that, really, that was the whole problem.

"Then what have you been doing?" She sounded suspicious.

"Nothing," Levi replied decidedly.

"Levi…"

"What?"

"Tell me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm worried about you!" she repeated. "Can't you just ease my nerves a little? I don't like the idea of you going home to that empty penthouse every night. Why do you think I wanted you to come over today? We haven't seen you in so long."

"You saw me just last week," he corrected. "You dragged be to that strip club, remember?"

"Oh how could I forget that?" she sighed. "I still can't believe what that pole dancer could do. I hadn't even realized half of that was possible."

"Yeah, me either," Levi agreed. Eyes narrowing, Petra seemed to read something, somehow, from what he'd said, which didn't sit well with him. Eying her as well, he waited for her to say something.

"You've been going back…" she slowly accused. "Haven't you?"

"What?" How did she know that?

"We've created a monster," she decided with a huff. "A sexy man-crazed monster. How often do you go? Don't become one of those guys Levi. The ones that go to work, then spend all the money they earned on strippers. Don't be that creepy, perverted guy."

"Shut up Petra," he snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about." She cocked a serious brow, obviously intent on getting an explanation. Levi sighed. "I only go to see the pole dancer. The 'Rogue Mask' or whatever the hell his name is." He was still determined that it was a ridiculous stage name.

"You like him, don't you," Petra accused.

"How can I like him Petra?" he asked, rather like she was stupid. "I don't even know him." A fact that was further infuriating to him the longer it persisted.

"Can't you find out his name or something?" she asked.

"No, he doesn't give it out to anyone. He doesn't do anything actually, other than dance. It'd figure he'd be the only stripper there with some form of self-respect."

"This really bothers you, doesn't it?" Petra was abruptly serious. "You may not know him, but you obviously like him."

"I like the way he moves," Levi corrected. "Mostly I think I just want to fuck his brains out."

"Levi!" Petra gasped before laughing.

"But he 'doesn't do that' and I can't figure out his name." He tried not to sound too extremely frustrated by the whole thing, but was pretty sure he was failing. It'd become an obsession to him recently, getting into contact with the stripper somehow.

"Are you sure this is healthy?"

"Probably not."

"It's that sexual frustration I was talking about," she said knowingly.

"Shut up." He frowned.


	4. Basket Full of Crazy

"He's been moping up there all weekend," Jean was saying as he put the groceries away, Mikasa's concern for her adopted brother only irritating him on a habitual level at this point. "I haven't seen him all morning." She'd only just gotten in from work. Being called in on Sunday didn't bother her all that much, but it bothered Jean. Not that him saying anything about it had much of an effect.

"I'll go talk to him," Mikasa decided in her typical, flat way. Shrugging and deciding to do nothing about it, Jean continued on with his activities as Mikasa headed up the stairs to Eren's room. Knocking, she didn't bother to wait to be invited in before entering. And there, on his side in the bed, staring out the window, was Eren.

"What do you want?" he asked as she walked in further, his voice downed.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked directly as she sat down on the bed beside him.

"Nothing…" he droned.

"Eren, I've known you almost my whole life," she started. "Don't lie to me." Still he refused to say anything. "Is this about a boy? You only ever act like this about boys." Sighing into a growl, Eren turned his face into his pillow and still refused to elaborate. Mikasa sighed. "I know you're going to tell me, so there's no point in postponing the inevitable."

"Do you think I'm immature?" he turned over to face her, the frown practically imbedded in his face. It took Mikasa a moment to answer, which displayed her surprise at his inquiry.

"No," she shook her head after a moment. "Why? Did someone say something to you?" Because she would kick their ass, or so Eren was reading on her face.

"Not in so many words," he admitted as he sat up, shoulders lax in depression. "What about what I do? For a living I mean. Do you think that's immature?"

"You know how I feel about that," she replied, Eren knowing full well that she disapproved. Mostly because she felt it was dangerous. "But do I think it's immature? No. You make a living, you pay your rent, you take care of everything you need to." His mother. "I think you're the farthest thing from immature." His green eyes had fallen to the side. "What happened Eren?"

"There's this guy that I… really like."

"Whenever you like a guy," which wasn't often, for the record, "you always 'really like' them. You shouldn't fall so fast Eren. It only ends up hurting you in the end."

"Like I was saying," he continued. "There's this guy, and he's… a few years older than me." A little white lie. "But I feel like, every time he looks at me, all he's sees is a child. I mean, I know I didn't go to college and… that my goals are a little farfetched, but I'm not a child."

"No, you're not," Mikasa agreed. "You've been supporting yourself, and your family, since you were fourteen Eren. Whoever this guy is, if he's so shallow as to assume who you are, then he's not worth your time or thoughts."

Pulling his knees up to his chin, Eren sighed. "That's easy for you to say," he muttered. "You're not gay," where the pickings were slim, "and you're in a relationship." Sometimes Eren got tired of being alone all the time.

"I know it's not what you want to hear," she affirmed. "But… there's someone out there for you Eren. Just… give it time. You'll find him eventually." Everything was always eventually, or so Eren was thinking. And though Mikasa's words were wise, and right, he still couldn't get Levi out of his head. Maybe once he was working back downstairs again, it'd be easier to get over him. He'd only known the man a week, but, like his sister had said, he fell fast. And hard. Then again, there was still the gym. Maybe he should start working out at a different time. Or at a different gym.

If he were being truly honest though, he didn't want to. Mostly, despite how he was trying to ignore it, he had a festering desire to prove Levi wrong. To be the man Levi apparently thought he wasn't.

"Here, I have something that will make you feel better," Mikasa started, Eren able to see the smile on her face despite how her lips hadn't moved. Maybe that was why he was good at reading Levi – he and Mikasa had a few choice things in common. "A secret, one that I haven't told Jean yet."

"Oh, you know I love secrets that Jean doesn't know yet," Eren grinned evilly, Mikasa finally allowing one corner of her lips to pull up. It was then that Eren realized just how nerved she seemed. Others likely wouldn't see it, but she was fidgeting, occasionally shifting her weight and looking around the room. Which, for Mikasa, was extremely unusual. Eren's smile slowly faded, his eyebrows pulling together in concern. "What is it Mikasa?" he asked when she didn't immediately tell him.

Taking a deep breath, she reached forward and took his hands in her own. Closing her eyes for a moment, she seemed to be gathering her courage, which was also oddly disconcerting.

"Mikasa…" Eren drew out her name.

"Eren…" she bit her bottom lip. "I'm…" Her dark eyes met his. "I'm pregnant."

At first, Eren didn't know what to say. Rather, he gaped, quite obviously shocked. And after a few seconds had passed, he finally seemed to choke on his voice, finding it somewhere in the back of his throat before pulling it forward.

"Is… is this a… good thing?" He honestly wasn't sure.

"I…" Mikasa took a deep breath. "I think so?" A for-real smile broke out across her face, which was the equivalent of being ecstatic for Mikasa, so Eren took that as cue enough.

"Congratulations!" he decided, smiling himself as he leaned forward and gave her a hug. "This is great Mikasa. I'm so happy for you!" He paused. "And Jean." The two men really only got along because they had to.

"I know," Mikasa became even more fidgety. "I'm a little nervous though."

And Eren knew why. "You have no reason to be," he comforted. "You're going to be a wonderful mother. Much better than… either of our parents ever were. Trust me, I know that much."

"Thank you Eren."

"You really need to tell Jean though," he encouraged. "Like… you should have told him before you told me. Don't tell him you told me first." That wouldn't end well for any of them.

"I won't," she knew better.

"So… are you two going to get married?"

"I… I don't know," Mikasa shrugged. "Do you think that's necessary?" And Eren shrugged too. After all, his parent's marriage had failed, as had Mikasa's. He wasn't sure how much faith he held in the idea of it. Then again, he did sometimes imagine himself married someday, so really it was up to them.

"I don't really want to be one of those women who gets married just because she's having a kid," she shook her head. "If we do I… I think we'll wait till after it's born."

"I'm so happy for you Mikasa," Eren was holding her hand again. "Even if it was an accident. I know you've always wanted a real family, so…"

"I have a real family Eren," she replied quietly, squeezing his hand. And even though Eren appreciated the sentiment, he knew it wasn't right that he was the one she was discussing this with. Jean had the right to know.

"You need to go tell him," Eren issued then. "Now."

"I know," she sighed as she stood, their hands falling away. Heading toward the door, she turned back once to him on her way out, offering him a comforting eye before she finally left. The door clicked closed behind her.

Eren was happy for her. And for Jean. Really he was. Yet as he stared at the door, surrounded by his empty room, he had the abrupt feeling of being left behind. Like all his friends were moving up in the world, living their lives, and he was caught on an island with nowhere to go. It was bittersweet he supposed, and left him once again feeling down despite how he rejected the notion.

Silence rang out all around him.

**oOo**

Going to the gym was both unappealing as well as exciting for Eren on that particular Monday. Exciting because he got to see Levi and also not exciting because… he got to see Levi. He knew he should just take Mikasa's advice and get over the whole thing, maybe avoid him altogether, but he was still in the throws of feelings when they were new and full of potential. Maybe he could still win Levi over. Maybe he still stood a chance.

Anything was possible, right?

So with conflicting feelings, he went to the café and saw that Levi's Ferrari was already there. Overhead, he could see dark clouds moving in from California. Though it hardly ever rained in Vegas, when it did, it tended to be hard and unrelenting. He hoped he'd be able to get to work on his bike before it started. And that it'd be over by the time he left.

Parking, he headed inside after gathering his nerves. He found that, instead of getting used to seeing Levi, he was growing more and more nervous every time. It was… quite uncomfortable actually. Probably because all he really wanted to know was what the older man was thinking, something that was incredibly hard to tell. Sure he could read his expressions, but that hardly meant anything.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he found his courage as he walked through the door into the air-conditioned café. Looking around, he spotted Levi sitting at the same table they'd taken previously, two cups sitting before him. Not thinking anything of it, Eren went directly to the counter, prepared to order when Levi's voice called his attention.

"Eren, come over here," and like a dutiful puppy, he practically skipped his way over to the table.

"What?" he asked with intent, bright green eyes.

"I got your coffee. Sit down." It was more of demand than anything. And, supposing he really had no choice in the matter, Eren hesitated for only a moment before sliding into the seat across from Levi. Looking down at the cup, he saw that it wasn't the pumpkin from last time, but what he knew – from experience – as the cinnamon swiss. Levi's was the same, the fact that he'd been ordered for not really bothering him. He always tried to get something different, so he really had no qualms with the arrangement.

Arrangement. Yes, that was what it was, wasn't it? What if he hadn't showed up? What if he just stopped coming? Would Levi be surprised? The older man had ordered them both coffee after all, so he'd obviously expected that Eren would be there. Like it'd become a guarantee. Eren wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted.

"What's your problem?" The question came out of the blue, Eren practically startling as he glanced up and met those piercing silver eyes. "Do you not like that kind?"

"No, it's fine," Eren assured, realizing that he hadn't taken a drink. Doing so, he assured Levi that there were no problems, his gaze falling to the window beside them as the rain began to sprinkle against the glass. Great, he'd have to drive through it. Oh well, he had to change anyway he supposed.

"Didn't you check the weather forecast this morning?" Levi asked him, Eren's gaze flicking back that way. "Why didn't you drive a car?"

"I don't have a car," Eren answered with a shrug.

"That's kind of irresponsible."

Eren cringed. "Not really," he replied somewhat shortly. "It hardly rains in Vegas. There's like a one in three-hundred chance that I'll have to worry about it." It just so happened that today was one of those fluke times. Nothing irresponsible about it.

"Unlucky for you then," Levi said, fully seeing the way Eren ground his teeth together. He could tell the boy was on edge, but about what he had no idea. And, to be frank, he was still trying to decide whether he cared or not.

"Thank you, because that's such a helpful thing to say." His sarcasm rang quite loudly around the café.

"Who said I was trying to be helpful?"

"Right, I shouldn't have assumed as much. Not from you anyway."

"What does that mean?" Levi asked, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling some. "You hardly know me Eren Yeager, so I suggest you adjust the attitude." And there he was, talking to him like he was a child. Eren, lips pursed, had half a mind to rebuke, but was interrupted before he could. Inside his pocket, his phone rang loudly.

Reaching for it, he hit the button to answer before holding it up to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked a little more aggressively than he should have.

" _Good morning Mr. Yeager_ ," said a rather quaint voice on the other line. " _Sorry to interrupt you so early in the morning, but we're calling on behalf of your mother._ " And Eren knew who he was dealing with right away.

Straightening, he quickly forgot his squabble with Levi. "What has she done now?" he hissed into the phone, turning to the side despite how doing so wasn't going to stop anyone from overhearing.

" _She hasn't done anything Sir_ ," was the rather snippy response he got. " _We're calling with good news._ " Eren didn't buy it. " _You mother had her check up yesterday, as was scheduled, and the doctor dropped off her new chart this morning when he came in. It's been decided that she's well enough to discharge, so if you could make arrangements to pick her up sometime toda-_ "

Eren's stomach filled with ice. "What do you  _mean_  she's being  _discharged_?" he asked sharply, no longer caring about the way Levi was staring at him. "You can't  _discharge_  her. I just got a call last week about her throwing a lamp at someone."

" _I'm sorry Sir,_ " the woman was saying. " _It says here that…_ " shuffling of papers, " _that your insurance coverage was terminated three months ago and we didn't receive any payments from you. That, together with her physical, qualifies her to be discharged and-_ "

"What do you mean my  _insurance_  was  _terminated_?!" he asked a little too loudly. "Why didn't I get a call about this? You people told me that together with my insurance and what she was getting from AARP covered everything. I don't understand-"

" _Sir, AARP hasn't been paying us anything,_ " the woman said simply.

"You… you people were the ones that told me they were. I filled out the proper forms for you to send into them and you told me that-"

" _Sir, your mother doesn't qualify for AARP coverage in this situation. I'm sorry._ "

"No- you-" he took a deep breath before pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Don't do anything. Don't discharge her, just don't do anything until I get there. I'll be there as soon as I can." Pulling his phone away, he promptly hung up before sliding off the chair. His eyes then fell to the rain pounding down outside the window, his control over the situation seeming to slip away. "Shit!" he swore, the woman behind the counter jumping. "Oh well," he threw his arms up in the air. "Guess I'll just be wet!" Turning away without even a single look at Levi, he headed for the door.

"Eren," and Levi tried to pull him back.

"Listen, I really have to go," Eren was saying without even looking at him. "I'll call into work and I'm sorry I can't help you with your office-"

"Eren, where are you going?" Levi interrupted him rather sharply, finally snapping those green eyes his way. "It's pouring rain out." The short man had risen to his feet and was stalking toward him. "How far do you have to go?"

"Like half an hour," Eren replied flippantly. "It's not that far, I'm not worried about it."

"It's dangerous," Levi, quick as ever, reached out and grabbed Eren around the arm, holding him back from walking right out the door. But, to be quite frank, Eren really didn't have the patience to be dealing with anyone at the moment. Internal panic did that to a person.

"It's not anymore dangerous than riding in the sun," he pulled himself away. "I really have to go."

"I'm not letting you go," Levi said firmly as the torrential, ocean induced rain was slammed against the windows by the wind. "If you really need to go somewhere, then I'll drive you. But you're not riding that thing in weather like this." And his words sounded more like a threat than a warning. "What'll it be?"

To be honest, as he looked out the glass again, Eren really didn't want to ride his bike. He'd be soaked just pulling out into the road, and things  _could_  get dicey when he didn't have a large metal case wrapped around him.

He sighed. "What choice do I have then?" he asked as he looked back at Levi in irritation. Silently agreeing, Levi headed out the doors first, Eren only momentarily regretting leaving his bike out in the rain as they headed toward the dark silver Ferrari. Jogging through the downpour, Eren jumped into the passenger side as Levi slid into the driver's. Thinking about the fact that he was riding in one of the most badass cars ever created for only a moment, Eren's current concerns soon pushed the idea from his head.

"Put the address into the GPS," Levi commanded coldly (calmly) as he turned over the ignition. The car purred into life, the sound likely to have been considered impressive were Eren in the mood to care. Doing as commanded, the computer was soon telling them where to go as Levi pulled out into the road, water spraying out around the tires as it sat atop the dry desert ground and asphalt.

"I'm going to make a phone call," Eren explained shortly, not elaborating on where they were going and thankful when Levi didn't ask. Instead, he went to his contacts where he had his insurance's number already listed before punching the call number and waiting for someone to pick up. What he got was the expected automated message, which asked him for a whole bunch of personal information and numbers that he'd long since memorized. Some ten minutes of driving had passed before Eren finally got a person on the line. And then he had to be transferred to another department, which took another ten minuets of holding.

Levi was silent the whole time, obediently taking direction from the GPS and listening as Eren grumbled and sighed to himself.

Finally he got an insurance agent on the phone, Eren already nearly past his limit.

"I'm calling about by insurance plan," he said for the third time before once again giving out a whole lot of personal information. "No, something  _is_  wrong because I just got a call about my mother's care at Brook Sans and they said my insurance has been terminated."

There was a momentary pause.

"What do you mean my plan has 'changed?'" Eren practically spit into the phone. "I was given no notice of this- no, no, I didn't get so much as a courtesy phone call, let alone a letter six months in advance to your policy changes… fine…" Another longer pause and then Eren literally looked like he wanted to strangle someone. "I had given you people my change of address three times in the last two years… no, I have the documentation to prove it, which means that everything you've been sending me has been going to- I haven't lived there since I was fourteen years old! That is my mother's information, not-"

His free hand had formed a fist against his leg.

"I will send you the documentation that proves I sent you a different address two years ago. And then I'll send you the documentation that proves I sent you my newest address change three weeks ago since you  _apparently_  didn't get that one either. Now, why has my policy been changed?"

Silence.

"That policy doesn't work for me," Eren was grinding the words against his teeth. "It doesn't have the coverage I- well then put me back on my previous plan. What have the rates changed to?" Whatever news he got then was apparently bad however because he reached up and began to rub the bridge of his nose again. "You're kidding me, right?... No, that is not 'okay.' That's nearly twice what I was paying before, which was pretty hefty, might I add."… "So what have I been paying into the last six months? No, no, I will not… hold…" Pulling the phone away from his ear, he stared down at it for a moment before bringing it back up.

A few minutes later however, Eren had to practice all his self-control not to throw it out the window. "Those mother-fuckers hung up on me," he swore, so much anger and frustration fueling his temper that he wasn't exactly sure what he'd do when they finally got to Brook Sans.

Not that he had much time to contemplate the notion however. Within the moment, the GPS was telling Levi to turn into the drive. Finding a parking spot near the front of the building, Eren was outside the car before he'd even killed the engine. Not putting any kind of stop on Eren's apparent rampage, Levi exited the car and followed, taking note that what they entered was some kind of mental rehabilitation center.

Levi frowned.

Dripping wet, but apparently not caring, Eren went straight for the front desk.

"Mr. Yeager," the receptionist recognized him, which said a lot about how often he was there. "Good morning."

"I need to speak with the head nurse," he didn't bother with being polite, the woman behind the counter's smile fading as she replied with a hesitant "okay" and walked away. Fingers tapping against the countertop, Eren hardly even seemed to realize Levi was still there, the gears in his head visibly turning inside his intent green eyes.

"Mr. Yeager," a blonde woman came around the corner to meet them, Eren not at all pleased to see her.

"Someone needs to tell me what's going on here, right now," he said as he moved away from the counter. "Because my mother is not going anywhere."

"Who have you brought with you?" the nurse was stone, apparently used to dealing with such issues, and was looking directly at Levi.

"I'm his lawyer," Levi lied, Eren flicking his gaze back to him in momentary surprise as his rage and frustration was lifted. It lasted for only a second before he glanced back to the nurse, who seemed thoroughly shocked by this information.

"I… see…" she replied, though her narrowed eyes were casting Levi a suspicious look, as if she didn't quite buy it. After all, they were both dressed in sweats and soaking wet. Not exactly the most qualified of attire. And it was six-thirty in the morning – irregular hours for a lawyer. Especially on such short notice. "Let's go back to my office," she eventually decided, leading the two men (because now Levi  _had_ to go with her) back down the hallway and through a security locked door. Her office was off to the right, the nurse holding the door open for them before following.

Sighing, she sat down at her desk chair before beginning to type on her computer, Eren quite distraught in his seat, but straining to remain silent. Levi too stayed quiet, mostly because he was absolutely _not_  trained in law and would probably only make things worse if he spoke. But the idea that he was a lawyer was still threat enough for anyone who didn't know the truth.

"Mr. Yeager," the nursed finally addressed Eren, her hands twining together atop her desk as she stared at him. "As you knew when you checked your mother in here three years ago, this is a rehabilitation center. It's expected that those who come here get better and eventually go home."

"My mother is not better," Eren made perfectly clear.

"She checks out both physically and mentally as being well enough to go home," she explained. "The doctor has put the order through. She's to be discharged today. This morning, actually."

"Ma'am, no disrespect," Eren was obviously practicing vast amounts of self control, "but I got a call just last week about her throwing a lamp at one of your staff. And a month before that I had to spend two days here because someone wasn't watching her and she got a razor and tried to kill herself. Again. So, to me, that isn't 'well enough.'" The nurse had stopped really being involved halfway through his defense however, Levi could see that. She'd leaned back, sighed, and shaken her head.

"She's shown incredible improvement in the last month," she explained. "We've been sending you weekly progress reports and-"

"She's doing as well as she was before her last episode," Eren interrupted. "One month of mediocre behavior is not good enough to diagnose her as being capable of going home."

"The medical professionals here believe-"

"No, your financial staff noticed that my insurance stopped sending you checks three months ago, which also happens to be your grace period for late payments. And now that I've run out of time, you're kicking her out. I'm not stupid; I do my homework, alright? Now,  _you_  know and  _I_  know that my mother is not recovered enough to-"

"The money, Sir, has nothing to do with it," the nurse said rather shortly.

"Speaking of the money," Eren continued. "What is this I hear about AARP not covering any of her care? Like you said, this is a rehabilitation center, which should fit under their policy coverage. And you people told me that AARP was footing half the bill for her to be here. I sent in all the documents that you said they needed, I called them and they said they'd gotten all they needed from you. So, somewhere, someone's been lying. And don't tell me I did something wrong," because she'd been about to interject. "Because I have copies of every piece of paper I've sent to you people and I know that I sent in everything you required."

"Sir, whether that's true or not, there's nothing I can say on that matter," she brushed by him. "That falls under financial's jurisdiction and Marie isn't in for another hour and a half. If you want to discuss the state of your account, and your payments, then she has to be the one you speak to."

"Payments?" This word took Eren aback by a considerable amount. "What payments?"

"Your payments for the last three month's care," the nurse said before rummaging through a file on her desk and handing Eren a single sheet of paper. Looking it over, Levi saw the way Eren's face visibly paled, his green eyes going wide at what Levi assumed were rather large numbers played out for him to digest. "As his lawyer," the nurse quite smugly addressed Levi then, "please feel free to look everything over. It's legitimate, I promise."

And the fact that she had to bring up its legitimacy told Levi quite well that it wasn't.

"We'll see," Levi decided, playing his part and slipping the sheet from Eren's shocked hands. The young man didn't even look over at him as he did, his eyes big as the numbers continued to flow through his brain.

And they were considerable numbers, at least for someone in Eren's position. This place wasn't exactly for those of poverty and payments without any kind of assistance were going to be high. The total came to around sixty thousand dollars, or so the sheet was telling Levi. He wasn't surprised at this number, but could understand why it would leave heavy footprints on Eren.

"The situation is really quite out of my control," the nurse started again, Eren flicking his eyes back up to look at her. "The doctor's orders are that she's to be discharged. If you take issue with them, then you'll have to make an appointment with him at a later date. Until then however, we are not prepared to keep Mrs. Yeager here." She rose from her seat, holding open the door before staring expectantly down at them. "Marie should be here soon, like I said, if you want to speak with her. And I've already sent someone to fetch Mrs. Yeager. I'll have her meet you out front."

Encouraged by Levi, who had risen from his seat, Eren did as well before leaving the office. With a soft click, the head nurse shut her office door and walked away, not even the slightest hint of a conscience rolling down her back.

Walking blindly back the way they'd come, toward the waiting room, Eren soon reached over and took the bill from Levi, looking down at it again as he roughly ran his hand through his hair. Leaving the more secure part of the facility, they both sat down in the chairs by the front counter, Eren seeming to re-read the bill over and over and over again.

"Where am I supposed to get sixty thousand dollars?" he eventually whispered, his panic finally beginning to trickle forward. Levi watched him, and listened the whole time, able to offer no helpful solutions. At least, not at the moment. He wasn't entirely sure how this whole thing worked, though apparently Eren was well versed enough. It was then, as he stared at the young man's distracted profile, that Levi realized just how much of his vibrant beauty had sunk away.

No longer was he the careless, carefree young man that had flitted in and out of Levi's office. He was strained, stressed, and, well, he looked… old. Much older.

It brought a frown to Levi's lips.

"Eren!" A woman's voice punctured the silence (they were the only ones in the waiting room) and both men looked up to see an older lady wisping her way toward them. She had slightly graying hair, her dark eyes, though happy, also oddly empty. To the point where it was unnerving to Levi. She was dressed in a simple pair of slacks and a t-shirt, her feet strapped into hospital crocs.

"Mom!" Eren said in surprise despite how they'd been told she was going to meet them. Levi could see the resemblance between them. Like Eren, his mother was stunningly beautiful. Were it not for the hollowness of her expression, even Levi would have to admit as much. "Why are you alone?" Because she was supposed to have an escort.

"I get to go home," she said "happily" as she pulled Eren into a hug. "They said I'm well enough to go home. Isn't that wonderful?" The longer Levi watched the exchange, the sicker he felt. This was not a happy moment. Not at all.

"Uh, yeah, of course," Eren agreed rather thickly, confusion and apprehension apparent in every move he made.

"Who's this?" Those empty eyes fell on Levi.

"No one," Eren distracted her again. "He's not with me." Levi wasn't sure why Eren was pulling his mother's focus from him, but supposed it was probably safer not to question.

She believed him. "Oh Eren, I'm so glad to be going home. Where's Grisha? Is he waiting out in the car?" That was when Levi saw Eren's expression crack. He didn't know who this Grisha was, but things weren't going well.

"Mom…" Eren hesitated for a moment. "Dad's not… he's not here." Yet, at the same time, there was a look of defeated acceptance that told Levi that none of this was new. That Eren had seen this a dozen times before and understood exactly how it would end.

"What do you mean?" she asked blankly. "Where is he?"

"Mom, Dad's been gone for the last twelve years," Eren said it slowly, as if to make sure she understood. Behind the counter, the same woman that had welcomed them was listening with a slightly gaping mouth. "He left… remember? He left us…"

"No," Eren's mother shook he head, looking at Eren as though he were a child who didn't know any better. How much of the young man before her did she actually see? "He'll be back, you'll see. He always comes back."

"No Mom," Eren shook his head. "He's never coming back." The hollow happiness seemed to fade from her expression then, her eyebrows pulling together somewhat.

"Why would you say something like that Eren?" she asked.

"It's… the truth Mom. You know that, you just… don't want to remember…"

"Don't tell me what I remember," she took a half step back away from her son, her eyes again falling to Levi. "Who is that?" she asked again, Eren making up the space between them as he reached to grab her arm.

"No one Mom," Eren drew her eyes again. "He's no one. I don't know him. He's not with me." She was looking at him differently now, her eyes filling in with an expression Levi wasn't sure how to describe. Part of his brain wanted to label it as "crazy," but that just didn't seem right.

"Why is he here?" she asked then. "Who did you call?"

"I didn't call anyone," Eren assured. "He's here to see someone else. He's not with me."

"Why do you do this to me?" her breathing was becoming erratic, her eyes flashing with things Levi couldn't understand. "You called them on me again, didn't you? Those… those social workers. He's here to take me back to that hospital, isn't he? Isn't he?"

"No, no Mom, he's not," Eren vainly tried to keep her in control of herself. The girl behind the counter had the phone gripped in her hand. "No one is taking you anywhere. You're going home, remember? Remember that?"

"When your father gets here, he'll make sure I don't go back there!" she shouted then, both Eren and Levi flinching back from the shriek of her voice. Rising from his seat, Levi watched the exchange defensively.

"I'm not sending you anywhere," Eren tried to tell her. "I promise Mom, I wouldn't do that." A lie perhaps.

"Yes you would," she shoved Eren off her then, backing up a few more steps. "You think I'm crazy." Eren was shaking his head, trying desperately to save the situation. "You think I'm a horrible mother, I know you do. Everything I did I did to make our lives better!"

"I know that Mom," Eren was still calm. "I know all of that. I'm not-"

"Where's Mikasa?" she asked suddenly. "She left too, didn't she? With your father? And now you're going to leave me too! With that hospital!" She was screaming now, her breath labored as she continued to back up. "I won't go! I'll never go back!"

"I'm not making you go," Eren tried to reason, his voice shaking in defeat as he watched her. As if he knew there was no going back now. "Mom, please."

"You're a terrible son!" she continued to shriek. "After everything I sacrificed for you! For your father! And now you're going to throw me away! I won't go! I won't!" She whipped around and, eyes searching, lunged for a pen sitting on one of the end tables.

"Mom! No!" Eren jumped after her, the girl behind the counter talking into the phone. "Don't!" He'd gone to grab his mother around the waist, to stop her from reaching the pen, but he'd been just barely too slow. She'd grabbed it and, feeling Eren's arms reach around her, swung around and flailed the pen at him. Eren veered back just in time, the tip of the pen missing his jugular by millimeters.

"I won't go!" She screamed, her eyes locking on Levi. Abruptly, he understood why Eren had tried to distract her from him. "You can't make me!" Pen wielded in her hand like a knife, she lunged at Levi, Eren scrambling after her again to stop the assault. He'd grabbed her by the arm, her movements deft and graceful as she turned and surged the pen toward him again. Eren shouted in pain, the tip digging down into his shoulder, Levi stepping forward hastily to stop her from doing any further harm.

Grabbing her skillfully by her arms, he pulled them back behind her, locking her in place before forcing her down onto her knees. She was screaming and howling the whole time, putting up quite the struggle, while Eren held his shoulder, a thin stream of blood leaking under his shirt-sleeve. It was at this time that the call from the front counter finally went through, three nurses rushing out the doors and onto the scene. One of them had a syringe and, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, shoved it into the struggling woman's arm. The effects began taking place almost immediately, her struggles weakening until she slowly collapsed on the floor. Releasing her arms and taking a step back, Levi let the nurses take over fully.

Gathering up her limp, now easy breathing body, they took her back through the security doors, Levi blatantly hearing one of them say "I told them she wasn't ready to leave" before they vanished down the hall. Once again left in silence, Levi looked to Eren, who was pale and still holding his pen wound.

The wound where his mother had successfully… stabbed him.

The head nurse appeared again a few seconds later. "What happened?" She was obviously late and Eren, his teeth bared, looked like he might just go and stab her much like his mother's example.

"My mother just tried to kill me… and him," he couldn't bring himself to look at Levi. "With a pen. Is that your  _definition_  of  _well_?" The nurse visibly paled, her hands forming fists as she noticed the way Eren was holding his shoulder, blood visible on his hand. "She can't go home."

"I'll speak to the doctor about it," she decided, unable to look Eren in the eye. "I'll call him in on emergency."

"You do that," Eren encouraged. Turning away, she vanished again behind the secure doors, Levi watching Eren as he closed his eyes and forcibly evened his breathing.

**oOo**

Levi hadn't expected to spend all of his morning and part of the afternoon at a mental hospital. Not that he was complaining, per se, but still, it'd been unexpected. Finally leaving, little to nothing had been resolved despite the hours spent. Though Eren's mother was clearly unwell, he also didn't have adequate insurance anymore and owed sixty thousand dollars. They'd agreed to keep Mrs. Yeager at the hospital long enough for Eren to find her somewhere else to go, but Levi could tell that doing so was no easy task. Especially since Eren apparently had no way to pay for new care.

Overall, it was a rather shitty situation. One that Levi was sure Eren hadn't wanted him involved in. It was personal, if one wanted to utilize an understatement.

They were now headed back to the café, the sun shining on Levi's Ferrari as they sped down the road. He'd called them both out of work after the unfortunate display by Eren's mother, having realized quickly that this wasn't going to be any hastily dealt with situation. Now that it was over, however, the day looked excessively long. And Eren was clearly exhausted. He hadn't looked over at Levi once since they'd left Brook Sans, his shoulders slumped back against the seat as he stared out the window. Levi had shortly considered that maybe he should say something, but then given up on the idea. There was nothing he could say that would remedy the situation or offer any comfort. He was far too removed. Instead, he drove.

Drove until, as they began to reenter the city, he realized that he hadn't eaten anything in the last seven hours. Neither had Eren for that matter. So, without even bothering to ask his companion what he thought of the pit stop, Levi pulled aside into an upcoming Panera Bread.

"What are we-"

"I'm hungry," was all Levi said in defense as he pulled up into a parking spot. Soon exiting the car, he took note that Eren hesitated for a moment before following, his gangly figure trailing a few feet behind Levi as he entered the establishment. It was moderately busy, what with it being the lunch hour, and Levi and Eren gathered a few stares as they walked through. Only because it was apparent they'd been recently wet and their sweat clothes were a wrinkled mess.

They waited silently in line, Eren still behind Levi as they did. Once they got up to the front, Levi ordered a simple Caesar Salad with a muffin and a coffee. Eren went for soup and bread, though only after making sure it was strictly vegetarian friendly. They then waited, silently, for their order to be completed before they went and found a table near the back of the room.

"So," Levi started after a few moments of Eren stirring his soup, waiting for it to cool, "what spurred you to take up the vegetarian lifestyle?" Because it'd already been discussed that Levi found animals to be disgusting and unsanitary. At least, as far as eating them was concerned (though also in most other ways as well).

"I guess it just seemed healthier at the time," Eren shrugged, not bothering to even look up or sound moderately in a good mood. "I was never much of a meat eater to begin with, so it wasn't that far of a stretch. I don't exactly have any moral reason behind it or anything." He slowly took a sip of his soup.

"Guess that makes two of us then," Levi agreed.

"You said that animals grossed you out, right?" Eren finally looked up at him, the shadow of a smile on his face. There was also the lingering signs of red on his cheeks, Levi fully aware that he was probably completely and totally embarrassed by what had happened that day – which was probably contributing to why he wasn't talking much, among other things.

"I've seen slaughter houses. And how some of those animals are treated," specifically chickens. "I can't even stomach the idea of consuming something that dirty." It gave him shivers just thinking about it. "Some slaughterhouses aren't bad, personally owned butchers for one, but I just find it easier to stay away all together."

"You… really have an issue with… dirt and stuff, don't you?" Eren asked, almost hesitantly, unsure if it was a safe subject to bring up.

"My mother was extremely OCD about cleaning the house," Levi explained, not at all abashed about discussing the subject. "To the point where I had to move out because she was so out of control." He looked at Eren directly then. "I guess you could say I can't forget the way she used to scrub everything until it made her fingers bleed, or some shit. I just like things cleaner than most."

"I guess both our moms are crazy," Eren decided quietly.

"There's nothing to be done about it," Levi said, his voice as chill as ever. "They are what they are and the most we can do is live with it. Her insanity shouldn't be your responsibility." That, however, didn't change the fact that it was.

"She's my mom," Eren said rather hopelessly. "I can't just abandon her. She'll kill herself." Levi wanted to say something along the lines of "but if she spends her whole life knocked out, what's the great loss?" but knew that was incredibly insensitive. "She might even hurt other people."

"Has she attacked you before?" Levi asked, though it was obvious, based on how Eren had handled the situation, that she'd become volatile in the past. "Not that you need to tell me anything." Because he really didn't know Eren well enough to be this knowledgeable about his personal life.

"Ah, well… yes," Eren replied, seeming hesitant to reveal much on the subject. "She started showing signs of 'deterioration' around the time I was fourteen. And when I turned sixteen, I had her committed after she… stabbed me in the leg with a steak knife and then tried to hang herself. When I turned eighteen, I got control of all her assets because she was still in and out of the mental hospital. And then two years ago she attempted again to commit suicide, among other things, which is when she was checked into Brooks Sans."

"To be rehabilitated?"

"She can't be rehabilitated," Eren replied bitterly. "She was never the most stable minded person and after my Dad left, it only got worse. She's gone, I know that."

"Then you need somewhere that's going to take her permanently," Levi deduced.

"That kind of stuff is expensive," Eren sighed. "The only reason I had her at Brook Sans in the first place was because it wasn't considered permanent and insurance covered rehabilitation. I suppose, maybe, if she actually committed a crime and was charged, the state would keep her for a little while, but that hardly seems like a moral solution." And it was obvious, based on the way he spoke, that these were things he'd thought of at length. He was his mother's parent now, and had to make the hard choices that she wasn't able to. "But, either I find somewhere for her to go, or she'll end up killing herself. And I… I don't think I can take care of her."

"You shouldn't have to," Levi said firmly.

"Saying that and reality are two very different things," Eren shook his head. "Maybe it was okay for you to leave  _your_  mom behind, but I can't just abandon her. Not after the way that Dad…"

"Your father left you," Levi stated, though perhaps it was more of a question.

"When I was ten, officially anyway," he smiled somewhat bitterly. "He was always in and out, off with other women. My mom tried to keep it hidden, but it wore on her as the years passed. Until finally he just… packed up his stuff and left. That's when my mom started up the daycare for the other kids in the trailer park. But that only lasted maybe… three years before she couldn't deal with the stress anymore."

"And you don't know where he is now?"

"I don't want to know," Eren said somewhat harshly before glancing up at Levi with apologetic green eyes. "He's a worthless piece of trash and I don't want anything to do with him." He ripped at his bread.

"I don't blame you," Levi said. "People like that aren't worth thinking about."

"What about  _your_  father?" Eren asked, hoping he wasn't overstepping his boundaries. "Certainly if your mother was that OCD, he would have had something to say about it."

"Not really," Levi shrugged indifferently. "My mother was a stay at home mom, which meant that most of her attention to cleanliness happened when he was gone. He wasn't exactly a believer in mental health issues either, so it never came up. And when I tried to tell him what she was like when he was gone, I was accused of being a liar, so I didn't bring it up again."

"Fantastic," Eren replied sarcastically.

Levi shrugged. "They are what they are," he admitted, quite of the attitude that he wasn't ashamed and there was nothing he could do about it. "They don't like change and when it happens, it just opens up a shitfest. Better to let them live in their own, safe little bubble than expose them to what's really going on."

"Do you not… see them anymore then?"

"I see them sometimes. They live on the other side of the country, and I think seeing me makes it harder for them to forget the world outside their own."

Eren furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't understand."

"My father's a catholic priest," Levi revealed, Eren's eyebrows shooting up in response. "And not the new-age, accepting kind. There were a few times during my life where there was no communication between us, but now that they've sufficiently stuffed their heads in the sand when it comes to talking about what I've done with my life, we can at least be civil with one another."

"That's really shitty," Eren observed.

"It could be worse," Levi decided. "They don't know half as much as they think they do. Their main problem with me is the fact that I left the church and decided not to follow in my father's footsteps." Which led Eren to understand that they had no idea their son frequented gay strip clubs. He wasn't going to say as much however – he was still supposed to be ignorant of Levi's sexuality (if he was, indeed, gay. He was going off of evidentially supported assumptions here).

"Bet that makes family holidays awkward," Eren smiled only fleetingly.

"Mostly it just makes them quiet," Levi countered. "I think that they still hope I'll 'come to my senses' and return to my 'calling,' but the last time they brought it up we didn't speak for three years, so…" That was that.

"Sometimes parents are so ridiculous," Eren shook his head. "If I'm ever a parent, I won't ever be like my own. Crazy or… a cheating bastard." Levi blinked up at him. "It's just… so immature, all of it."

"And ignorant."

They fell silent, Eren supposing that what he'd learned of Levi's personal history did heighten his mood some. He hadn't expected the older man to be so forthcoming, but, then again, just because Levi was strict and cold didn't mean he was secretive. He wasn't ashamed of his past, at least, not the parts he'd revealed, which gave Eren a little confidence in thinking that, maybe, his own situation wouldn't always be so frustrating. Maybe someday he'd be able to relay his mother's exploits in the past tense.

"Your bike is still at the café," Levi said as he finished his meal.

"Yeah, I should probably go get it before someone messes with it," and Eren shoved his own bowl away to symbolize that he too was done. Within a few minutes they were headed back out to the Ferrari, Eren now quite unsure what to make of his and Levi's discussion. Did this make them friends? Did it make them acquaintances in an awkward situation? He really didn't know quite what to think. And as he was pondering the idea, they arrived back at the café. They parted ways quickly enough, Levi mentioning that he'd see Eren the following day before driving off.

But to Eren, when considering all that had happened, it seemed rather too clean.


	5. You and Your Pretty Green Eyes

"Arlert, close the door," Levi issued as the clock clicked closer to five. The end of the day on a Friday and Levi was finally getting around to addressing the subject. To be frank, what had happened with Eren's mother the Monday before had been plaguing him continually. Not because he was somehow shocked by what had happened, but because he could tell, based on the stress lines of Eren's face throughout the week and during their workouts, that nothing had been resolved. And it wasn't that he felt he couldn't do anything, but that he wanted to know more in order to know what best  _to_  do.

"Uh, yes Sir," Armin replied and closed the door before approaching his boss's desk. "What can I do for you?" Eren had already been dismissed some few hours before, back to his regular job for the remainder of the day. The office was coming along nicely – it was now almost completely empty – and soon Levi would be able to have the carpet pulled up to be replaced with hardwood. Because carpet was filthy.

"Sit down Armin," he issued without looking up from the files he'd been going through. His assistant did so, silently, and a few second's pause passed while Levi finished what he was doing. Looking up, he stared at Armin for a moment, taking in his delicate features and pale coloring. He, like Eren, might have been considered pretty by some, but wasn't exactly to Levi's taste. He liked darker characteristics, were he being totally honest. And Armin was just a little  _too_  feminine to look at sometimes.

"I want to talk to you about Eren," he started bluntly, the subject causing Armin's eyes to widen.

"I know he's seemed a little distracted lately," Armin immediately jumped to his defense, "but he's just dealing with some stuff. I don't-"

"I'm not worried about that," Levi waved him off. "How long have you and Eren known each other?" The question, he knew, was odd, but he honestly didn't care that much.

"Uh, our whole lives… I guess…" Armin replied.

"Does he go to school or anything?" Because Levi wanted a better idea of his financial situation. He knew Eren worked two jobs, but he didn't have any idea what the other was or how much he made.

"Well… no…" Armin really didn't know where this was going.

"Does he have a college degree already?" Levi did look up at him then.

"Er, no," Armin shook his head. "Eren's never been to college." There was a pause, Levi's eyes hinting that he wanted a more elaborate answer. "He, uh… got his GED a few years ago and has been working since…" Was he allowed to say what he was without Eren's permission? He didn't know. Armin felt kind of cornered, actually.

"He never finished high school?"

And Armin felt the need to make up for his blunder in saying too much. "Well, no, he had to drop out because… well, to support his family," Armin explained, still quite hesitant. "He went back for his GED after Mikasa finished college though, so it's not like he… didn't want to… or something…" This felt kind of a like a job interview, only the person being interviewed wasn't there.

"What does she have to do with anything?"

"Well… Mikasa and Eren lived together for a long time. She… didn't like living with her parents, so she spent a lot of time with the Yeagers. But her parents, they, well, they refused to pay for her college, so she wasn't going to go, but Eren didn't want that. So he… paid for her school… which is why he didn't go… partially…"

"He dropped out of high school to get a job so he could support his family and pay Mikasa's way though college?" It hadn't been what Levi had expected to hear.

"Well, she didn't want him to at first," Armin insisted. "But Eren said that once she was done, he'd go back to school and she'd help him. She graduated last year, but Eren doesn't really seem to want to go to college. He said he wanted to start his own dance school, I think. Like, give people lessons and stuff. That's what he's been saving to do… I think…" He'd said  _way_  too much.

"He did that all on his own?" Levi just wanted to be perfectly clear. "Where did she go to school?"

"University of Nevada, up in Reno." Which, Levi knew, wouldn't have been a cheap bill to cover. No state university would be.

"And he paid her entire tuition?"

"Well, most of it I think. She got some scholarships and stuff too, but…" Armin shrugged.

"And he doesn't want to go to school?"

"That's what he says…" Though Armin didn't personally believe it. Mostly, he thought Eren just didn't want to be a burden on anyone else. And if he brought up going to school, he knew that Mikasa would volunteer to help pay. When considering her most recent announcement, Eren definitely wasn't going to even consider the idea.

"Interesting," was all Levi had to say on the subject then, quite convinced at this point that Eren was a fucking saint. He wouldn't have thought as much upon first meeting him, but after seeing the way he'd dealt with his mom and then hearing this, he had little else to consider. It was almost too ridiculous to be believable.

"You can go now Armin," Levi said as he leaned forward and picked up his phone. "That's all I needed."

Puzzled, but knowing better than to ask, Armin nodded. Standing, he started toward the door, turning back only once to see that Levi was now speaking on the phone. Leaving, he considered the conversation until he got home, at which point he waited through the afternoon for Eren to come home. He then divulged what had happened.

"I wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to tell him," Armin was explaining from his position on Eren's bed. He had his eyes closed as the other man changed out of his dancing sweats. "It was kind of weird. I couldn't tell if he was worried about you or interrogating me." Little to Armin's knowledge however, Eren had first been shocked that Levi had asked about him before becoming immediately pleased.

"I'm not worried about it Armin," Eren replied. "You can open your eyes, by the way." Not that he cared who saw him nude, but it made Armin feel better if he didn't. "It's not like you told him things that weren't already common knowledge among us. Maybe I have seemed distracted lately."

"I guess I just find it hard to believe that he noticed, and was worried," Armin explained, unaware that Levi had been with Eren when he'd been at Brook Sans. In fact, the only thing his roommates had any idea about was the fact that he had to move her as soon as possible. They weren't aware that she'd attacked him (and Levi) or that he was now a new sixty thousand dollars in debt. With Mikasa having a baby, he wasn't going to make that known to anyone. He'd deal with it, even if he had to get a full time night job.

"He's not a stone statue Armin," Eren laughed shortly. "Sure he's a bit prickly, but that doesn't mean he's a total jerk or something." His blonde friend apparently hadn't expected him to defend their boss so knowingly, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at Eren. "We work out together almost every morning," Eren shrugged, unable to meet that blue gaze. "I've gotten to know him a little…"

"You like him!" Armin said a little too loudly, Eren glaring at him for allowing his voice to carry some. Eren had wanted to tell someone about his feelings, to be honest, and Armin was always better for this sort of thing than Mikasa. That, of course, didn't mean he wasn't embarrassed.

"He's not that bad…" Eren continued to defend.

"Isn't he, like, in is thirties?"

"Thirty-two."

"And he's… gay?" Armin cocked a skeptical brow. Levi hadn't exactly struck him as such, but stereotypes didn't always carry over to reality.

"I… don't know," Eren admitted, Armin's face dropping. "I haven't actually gotten him to say as much, but I think there's a pretty good chance. Mostly because, well," he cleared his throat. "I saw him at the club one time." Which was a lie. He saw Levi at the club  _every single night_  that he was working there. But he knew that saying as much would make Levi look bad and, well, he wasn't even sure what to think of how often he saw the older man sitting, alone, at that back table. He'd inquired about him to some of the waiters, but they'd said that he never came behind the curtain or anything, or got friendly with anyone. He just sat there and, sometimes, even read a book. It was all very perplexing. But, well, as Eren had noticed, he was an extremely good tipper, so no one had any desire to question his motives.

"Oh…" Armin looked away, seeming to see where Eren's logic was coming from. "Well, yeah, that would pretty much give him away. Do you… do you think he's interested in you?"

"No," Eren slumped his shoulders sadly, Armin pursing his lips. "Actually, I think he thinks I'm childish."

"Childish?" Armin questioned in surprise.

"Yeah, though I think it's more because I'm so much younger than him than anything else. I'm pretty sure he doesn't look at me that way." Or so he told himself to stay safe. Sometimes he fantasized that the older man did like him, but that hardly needed to be brought to Armin's ears.

"I guess I can see that," Armin crossed his arms over his chest thoughtfully. "He did ask a lot about you today though." Positive thoughts. "Maybe he does feel something for you. He's a hard person to read after all. Who knows what he's thinking."

"I'm not holding my breath," Eren made perfectly clear.

"Well… why don't you tell him," Armin shrugged. "The most he can do is reject you, right? It's not like he's your direct boss or anything. If he says no, you won't see him much anyway, and if he says yes, there's nothing stopping you from being together. People inside the company date all the time."

"You make it sound like such an easy thing to do," Eren scoffed. He couldn't even imagine telling Levi he liked him. What would he say? Oh, by the way, even though my mom tried to kill you, I just thought I should tell you that I have these really strong feelings for you. I know you've shown mostly disinterest in me, but, you know, thought I ought to tell you. Because that seemed like a great idea.

"There's no rush," Armin shrugged. "Feel him out some more. Maybe something can come of it."

"Your constant optimism is a bad influence Armin," Eren smiled.

"I try."

Before the conversation could continue however, Eren's phone began to ring. Pulling it from his pocket, he saw that it was an anonymous number. It was probably just a sales call, but he answered it anyway.

"Eren Yeager?" It was a deep voiced man.

"Speaking."

"Sorry for calling so late. I just wanted to verify that your mother would be in need of a car and be arriving tomorrow morning."

"Arriving?" Eren furrowed his eyebrows. "Arriving where?"

"Well… at Samson Psychiatric Hospital Sir," the man said in confusion similar to Eren's. "We got a call earlier today that she was in need of an emergency transfer from Brook Sans. It says here in the chart I was given that a car will be dispatched to pick her up tomorrow morning and bring her here."

Eren, at full attention, leaned forward on the edge of his bed. "I didn't register her there." He made perfectly clear. He couldn't afford a place like Samson. It was state of the art, sure, but not exactly necessary. It was the place the hospital was always trying to send him to, and that was always full up despite their prices. It took months to get an opening there.

"It says on the chart here Sir that a Kalura Yeager was registered earlier this afternoon. She is your mother, isn't she? The chart says Eren Yeager is her son."

"Yes, she's my mother, but you don't understand. I can't pay for her to go there." Armin was listening with furrowed eyebrows at this point, just as perplexed as Eren was over the whole discussion.

"Sir…" the man on the other line was also growing more confused. "You don't have a balance."

"What do you mean?"

"Your balance Sir," the man continued. "It's been paid up to full. For the next… twenty years."

Eren almost dropped his phone.

"W-what?" he tried not to choke.

"Yes Sir," he continued. "It says here that it was paid for by… anonymous donation. A total of around three million dollars Sir, the excess being donated to the hospital should your mother pass before the allotted time." That was it, Eren was going to have a heart attack.

"Three mi…" he couldn't even say the number.

"Normally it wouldn't be so high because of insurance, but since that was bypassed due to the donation, the number is higher," he continued. "A secure car was also ordered to go pick her up. We were told that you would be joining us in the morning to go over her chart and care. Is that… correct?" Because that was the whole reason he was calling, wasn't it? To verify everything?

"Uh…" Eren searched desperately for words. "Sure, what time should I be there?" His voice was oddly higher pitched, but there wasn't much he could do about that.

"We'll be leaving at eight to go retrieve her and the doctor is scheduled to meet with you at nine. Is that appropriate or do we need to reschedule?" He'd never dealt with a hospital that was so accommodating.

"That should be fine…" Eren was nodding to himself. "I'll be there…"

"We'll see you then Sir," the man seemed satisfied to have finalized the plans. "Good evening Sir." He hung up before Eren could even reply. Eyes wide, he slowly lowered his phone until it was held tightly in both his hands, crushed up against his chest. Gradually, thoughts began to filter back into his head, breaking down the walls of shock.

Then Armin's voice pierced through like a knife.

"Who was that?" he asked, concerned.

"No one," Eren decided hastily. "A mistake." He looked to Armin, his expression still pale. "Don't worry about it."

"Uh, Eren…"

"Can you get out please?" He stood abruptly. Going to the door, he held it open, his phone still held to his chest as he stared at Armin. "Now, please?"

"O-okay," Armin stumbled to his feet. "Eren, are you sure you're-"

"I'm fine," he snapped. "Just, please leave." Wordlessly, Armin did as he was asked, Eren soon able to close the door behind him. Backing up against it, green eyes still dazed, he slowly sank to the floor. His phone was still held tightly in his hand as his rear collided with the carpet. Breathing shallow, he finally allowed his brain to zero in on the only possible explanation for all of this.

There was only one other person that knew of his mother's situation that was even relatively capable of this. Maybe. None of his roommates had that kind of money, which could only lead him to the lone other candidate.

But why?

Why had he done this?

**oOo**

The following morning all seemed to have passed in a haze for Eren. He'd gotten up, called work and said he'd be late. Robotically, he'd gotten the directions off the internet before getting on his bike – skipping his workout – and riding it across town to Samson Hospital. When he'd gotten there, his mother had already arrived and he'd been taken to her room to see her before the doctor had come in to discuss what was likely to be done. His mother had been asleep, as she always seemed to be when she was losing herself, and Eren had easily been able to agree to all the best treatment options advised of him. The doctor and nurses had all been overly obliging, almost as if he was some kind of special patient himself. It'd all been done and organized by noon, Eren soon making his way up the steps to ES Research.

He didn't go immediately to work however. Rather, his feet carried him to the elevator and then to the seventy-ninth floor. Cutting his way across the lobby, he soon saw the doors that would lead him to Armin. Pushing through them, he approached the desk where his roommate was watching him.

"Eren, where have you been?" Armin asked then. "Levi's got me on lunch break now, but I was surprised when you weren't here to help with the office." His friend was still looking at him suspiciously, as he'd been doing since the odd phone call the night before.

"Is he in there?" Eren managed to squeak out.

"Er, yeah, but he asked not to be disturbed."

"Right. I'm going to go talk to him." And Armin tried to stop him, but Eren was at the office door before he could succeed. Pressing his way inside, he quickly clicked the door closed behind him, pausing for a moment as he stared down at the handle. He wasn't sure what he was doing there, or what he was going to say. But… he had to do something. Say something. Anything.

"Eren," Levi's cold voice rang over to him. "I thought I told Armin I didn't want to be interrupted." Eren slowly turned toward him, but couldn't bring his eyes up to look at him. Instead, arm reaching up to hold his elbow, he stared at the carpet, still standing directly in front of doors. Levi audibly sighed. "What do you want?"

At first, he continued to do nothing, Levi waiting on the other side of the room. However, Eren had a great desire to not disappoint Levi, so he forced his feet into action and dragged his body across the room until he was standing directly in front of the desk. Lips pursing, he tried to gather his nerves, but failed again and again. There were just… no words.

"Eren, I really don't have all day." Levi sounded somewhat irritated.

"I'll pay you back," it fell out of him like word vomit – completely uncontrolled. "Every cent. I'll find a way. All of it. I'll… I'll pay you…" He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn't know what else to do.

Levi sighed again, silence hanging over them for a few seconds.

"Eren, you don't owe me anything," Levi started.

"You have to let me pay you back," he blundered onwards. "I know it will take a while, but-"

"Eren, you don't owe me anything," Levi said again. "Do you think I just randomly have three million dollars sitting around in my bank account? I'm rich, but I'm not that rich." Finally Eren's eyes flicked up to him, their searching green looking for an explanation. "However," Levi leaned back in his chair, his fingers twining together in his lap, "ES Research does donate a good chunk of money to organizations it deems appropriate. It's not difficult to push money around – I write checks for this company every day." And he'd only been working there two weeks. "Mental health, as you know, is something I would be interested in supporting. And as Vice President, I can choose what to donate my share of the charity funds to."

Eren tried to hold it together, really he did, but as he listened, it became more and more difficult. His throat had run dry, his whole body shaking cold as the truth was told to him.

"Getting your mother into that hospital after such a donation was hardly difficult," Levi continued. "She's more of an accessory really. Or an after thought. Whichever you prefer." Reaching out, Eren tried to steady himself on the desk, his hands holding the edge as his whole body began to tremble. His legs couldn't support him however and, sinking downwards, he was soon crouching down in front of the desk, still using the edge for support as he closed his eyes and tried to stop his lungs from puking up through his mouth.

"Eren." Levi had stood, leaning forward over his desk to stare down at the young man. "Are you alright?"

He couldn't hold it back anymore however. Despite how he fought it, the tears came, his whole chest shuddering as he sniffed against them. They came pouring out, his fingers whitening as he gripped the desk with all his strength. He tried to be quiet, but just couldn't. He knew it was obvious he was crying, he couldn't possibly be doing anything else, but part of him also didn't care.

"Eren," Levi said his name again, but still garnered no response. Instead, he continued to break, his sniffing becoming loud, unattractive breathing as tears continued to stream down his face. He didn't notice that Levi, lips pursed, had stepped away from the desk before coming around to his side of it. It wasn't until a hand was laid lightly on his back that Eren knew he was there, the physical comfort only causing him to lose further control.

"If it makes you feel any better," Levi's voice was in his ear, softer – far softer – than he'd ever heard it before, "you can pay me back the sixty thousand I sent to Brook Sans. That was out of my own pocket. I'll even put you on a payment plan." Part of Eren wanted to laugh and part of him wanted to die. Instead, he had to settle for somewhere in the middle, a sob leaving his lungs as he finally lost all sense of balance. Falling back on his butt, his chest heaved, his hands going to his eyes as he tried to quell the tears that just wouldn't stop.

"It's alright Eren," that soft voice again. "It's alright." Levi's steady hand was rubbing up and down his back, the acts of comfort only making it all worse. He knew he was in a terrible state – totally out of control – but he just couldn't gain a grip. Soon he was choking on his sobs, his whole body convulsing as he tried to bury his face in his hands.

Levi didn't say anything after that however. He stayed beside him, crouched down on the carpet, and continued to simply be there. Hand still rubbing up and down Eren's back, he waited far too patiently for it all to be over. For Eren to finally chase down his self-control. It took a good twenty minutes before he was left in a relatively quiet state, his body hiccupping as he rubbed his temples, a headache forming there.

"I'm s-sorry," he croaked out soon enough, his embarrassment over the whole thing finally beginning to creep in.

"No need to be sorry," Levi's harshness was back, his hand falling from Eren's back. "Everyone gets upset sometimes. Even me, believe it or not." He stood, Eren turning his swollen, red eyes up to watch him as he rounded his way back to his chair. Gulping, he tried to pull himself together, his shaky legs pushing him back into standing. "It's about time you got back to work I think," he started then. "You've missed a day and half now. A day and a half that my office still isn't cleared out."

"Yes Sir," Eren replied quietly.

"Armin managed to load that abhorrent eagle sculpture onto the two wheeler before I kicked him out," he gestured across the room. "Do me a favor and get it out of here so I don't have to look at it anymore." He then focused down on his papers again, quite satisfied that his orders would be swiftly met. Turning, Eren spotted the bright gold thing – a sculpture just tall enough that, if he pushed it correctly, he could hide his face from Armin on his way out.

"Of course Sir," he said quietly before going over to it. Easily kicking it into rolling, he headed for the door, unaware that Levi was watching him leave. He was able to easily skirt by Armin, ignoring what was probably a questioning look as he went directly to the elevator.

He never told a single soul what happened in Levi's office that day.

**oOo**

Yup, it was official. He was definitely in love with Levi at this point. There was no getting around it. He'd been pondering it all morning, laid up in his bed staring at the ceiling on that sunny Saturday. Even during his shows at the club, he'd been distracted with it. He'd stared at Levi the whole time he'd been performing, wondering in the back of his mind if the older man had noticed. Levi was always intent when Eren was out on stage, though he'd been told that at other times he wasn't (that he  _read_  a  _book_ ). Sometimes Eren fantasized that maybe Levi came only to see him, however farfetched such an idea likely was.

He couldn't help it though. What Levi had done for him told Eren so much about who he was – the kind of person he was. The kind of boss he was. Maybe Eren was now putting him up on a pedestal, but it was hardly as if he couldn't help doing so. Levi was now hovering around the edges of every thought he had, or at the center of them. Just thinking about him sent Eren's stomach into knots, butterflies let loose to flutter about against his spine.

But the bigger question was, what did Levi mean by what he had done? It was no menial task, the money Levi had pulled together. Had he only done it however, because he was a good person that had wanted to help? Or was there more to it than that? Obviously, he had some kind of gold heart beating inside his chest, but did it stem from something more than that? Eren was almost too scared to consider it. After all, Levi was a rich, vice president of a billion dollar company. Certainly he would look out for his employees. But where was the line? What he had done had seemed like too much, but Levi had covered it up with official charity and his own personal power. Did that make the statement he'd made different? And then of course there was the sixty thousand dollars that he  _had_  paid out of his own pocket. It seemed like mere pocket change compared to the amount "donated" to the mental hospital, but it was still a considerable amount. Yet, had Levi done it only out of the goodness of his heart, or did he have other motives?

Eren couldn't bring himself to think further than that however. It was just too unbelievable, too fantastic, to be real. For the moment, he was content to simply humor the possibility. That was enough to send his abdomen into seizures.

His thoughts were bust upon at around ten in the morning, Armin rushing into his room with a sad state of bedhead as Eren sat up, alarmed, his comforter wrapped precariously around his naked body (he liked to be nude, okay?!).

"Get… ready…" Armin was breathing hard, as if he'd sprinted across the entire house. Not winded enough to have a hard time recovering however. "I just got a call from Levi. He's on a plane to San Diego right now. An emergency meeting with one of ES Research's top clients. Wants me to go with him." Because Armin was his administrative assistant. It was a very important job.

"Uh, okay." What did that have to do with Eren?

"C'mon," Armin gestured to him.

"Why…?" Eren had narrowed his eyes.

"Said he wants you to come too," Armin explained. "Something about the hotel, and picking up his luggage, and fetching coffee." Eyes widening, Eren finally understood. Armin was going to fly out there to work with Levi. Eren was being asked to go in order to play maid.

Well, he was alright with that.

"Okay, okay," he scooted to the edge of his bed. "I'll be packed in a few minutes. How long?" He made sure to keep himself covered for his roommate's sake.

"Just till Monday morning," Armin had finally gotten his full breath back as he started to back out the door. "Hurry, hurry, our plane leaves in an hour." With that, he was scampering back out of the room. And Eren, who didn't view what was happening so much as a burden but as an impromptu vacation, started throwing clothes into his suitcase, wondering if he should pack his blue swimsuit or his red one, or maybe just his wetsuit. After all, if Levi and Armin were going to be attending meetings, he wasn't going to have anything to do. Unless Levi wanted him to make dinner reservations and things.

Packed and dressed within ten minutes, he was soon dragging his suitcase down the stairs, Armin's already sitting by the door as his blonde roommate shoved his socked feet into dress shoes. He was clad in a well fitting suit, no doubt ready to get off the plane and join his boss in whatever important meeting called their attention. After all, he was in this job for the experience – he wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to get some.

Eren, on the other hand, was wearing his trademark sweatshirt and tank top, which was this time accented by black cargo shorts and his red-striped tennis shoes. Truly, he and Armin looked quite opposite in comparison.

"I guess we'll see you guys on Monday," Mikasa said as she entered the room, both men now headed toward the door.

"Yeah, see you then," Armin added hastily as he flew out the door. Eren moved at a somewhat slower pace, waving to Mikasa as the two headed for the taxi waiting at the end of their driveway. Loading up their luggage, they were soon on their way to the airport and on their plane. The flight was only an hour and some change, the two seeming to land just as quickly as they'd taken off. Unloading was a bit slower, both Armin and Eren thankful they didn't have carry-ons to worry about.

"Levi said his luggage should be waiting at the front desk," Armin explained as the two men went to retrieve their own suitcases off the luggage train. "And that he left you information on the hotel and whatnot." The two hefted their stuff and began walking toward the help desk at the front of their current position in the airport. "He wants me to meet him for the meetings as soon as possible." It was then that Eren saw the guilty look on Armin's face. He countered it with a smile however.

"Don't worry about it," Eren assured as he took Armin's luggage from him. "It's what I'm here for, right? I don't mind being your slave for a few days."

"It doesn't make me feel any better when you put it like that," Armin frowned.

"I said don't worry about it," he repeated. "Go get a taxi and join up with Levi. I'll take care of this." Thus, with little else said, the two split ways, Armin speed walking toward the doors as he peered down at his watch. Eren, far easier about the time, focused back on the front desk where a man was standing, waiting for him to approach.

"I'm here to pick up Levi Akerman's luggage," he said, the man then asking for his ID, which he gave. After verification of his identity was completed, he was given the luggage and able to make his way over to some seats. Organizing himself there, he saw that there was an envelope strapped to the top of Levi's rolling suitcase. It had his name gracefully scrawled across it and, picking it up, he quickly opened it.

Inside was enough cash for him to get a taxi to the hotel as well as a company card and a sheet of paper. It was a letter, the details of why he was there written out in black pen –

_Eren,_

_The address to the hotel is at the bottom of this sheet. The reservations should have already been made. Check the six of us in – you, Armin, myself, Erwin Smith, his assistant Mike Zacharius, and Hange Zoe. We'll be back later this afternoon. Their luggage should already be at the hotel. Make sure it gets sorted out correctly. Also, check the furniture in my room to make sure it's adequately clean. Actually, make sure the whole room is clean – towels, glasses, everything._

_Have coffee waiting for us when we get back._

_Levi_

Thus, as it would turn out, Eren was acting as the runner for the entire top brass of the company. He hadn't considered that he'd ever be given such a position, but he supposed he had been working "closely" with Levi the past few weeks. And if Mike and Armin were going to be busy helping their bosses, someone had to do the dirty work. Not that Eren was complaining. He was getting paid after all (or at least he should be) and what they were asking wasn't exactly tough work.

With that in mind, and his orders in hand, he headed out into the humid, San Diego sunlight. Cabs were lined up along the curb and after loading the three suitcases into the back, he climbed inside and gave out his destination. Soon he was on the road, his eyes peering up out of the window as the city zoomed by. He'd been to San Diego before, but not enough times for the newness to wear off. Beyond, sparkling in midday, was the ocean, Eren determined to visit it before he left.

Soon they were right in the midst of downtown San Diego, the coast growing closer as the cab drive expertly brought them around to the strip lined with luxury hotels and attractions. They stopped at a tall building right on the coast, Eren able to see the beach just beyond the road and a row of palm trees.

A man with a cart came out to meet them, silently loading the three suitcases before heading in through the door. Eren followed him before going to the front desk. Once there, he check on the reservation and was told that the top-floor suite was what he should have been expecting, some luggage having already been brought up. And so on he went, following the man with the cart up the elevator to the luxury collection of rooms waiting.

It really was a suite. Made up of eight rooms, there were four on each side and a grandiose living area in the middle, floor to ceiling windows giving them a view of the ocean beyond. It was littered with only the highest quality furniture, all of it set up in a very modern, edged fashion. Left alone after the luggage was unloaded, Eren went about fulfilling his orders. He separated the luggage, split it up accordingly between the eight identical rooms (giving Levi and President Smith the only two with ocean views) and then went about checking every single area for filth. That was, everything in the middle area as well as Levi's room. He lifted each sheet, he checked each cushion, he turned every pillowcase inside out. He re-cleaned all the glasses, wiped down all the tables, dusted the shelves and opened the windows. By the time he was done, the main room (and Levi's) was sparkling, Eren checking everything over three times before finally deciding that it was good enough to please Levi.

He then called the front desk and asked about coffee. He'd originally been going to go get it himself once they'd told him what places were closest. However, as he should have expected from such a hotel, they volunteered their own services. And because Eren didn't know what to order for anyone besides, himself, Armin, and Levi, he issued that a variety be brought up around four (and hopefully they'd be back before it got cold. He'd have to warm it up if they weren't).

As it was, he then had nothing to do. And he couldn't leave, not before the ES Research party had returned. Oddly anxious – probably because he had nothing to do but wait – he headed out onto the balcony. Leaning against the railing, he took in the breeze wafting in off the ocean. It was salty smelling, but also fresh, and he found it easy to waste away the minutes. His thoughts flitted back and forth, Levi's silhouette always a shadow in the back of his mind. He was excited to see Levi over the weekend, but also realistic enough to know that he probably wouldn't see much of him. He'd have to settle for relaxing and just being entertained by the thought of him.

The coffee arrived on time, the occupants of the rooms shortly after. Eren had just finished setting the coffee up on the table for display and consumption when he heard their voices outside the main door. Pausing for only a moment, he decided that whatever they were going to be doing wasn't any of his business and, looking around only once more to make sure everything was in order, then banished himself to his own room (which wasn't exactly a punishment).

"He's a disgusting pig," Levi was saying as they entered, his voice unadorned but also not censored. "Why are we even working with that piece of shit?" Eren tried not to laugh at his colorful language.

"Levi, please," President Smith's voice was easy despite his objections.

"You knew what I was like when you hired me. Now why can't we just drop this guy in a hole somewhere and move on?"

"Because he represents a valuable opportunity," Erwin explained. "You know that perfectly well Levi. You're just complaining." Whatever meeting they'd just had, it was apparent it hadn't gone all that well. Or that Levi hadn't approved, in any case.

"I don't want to work with him if he's always such a prick," Levi's voice had faded to the other side of the room.

"With his father now passed, we can take up the contract," President Smith sounded as though there was nothing to be done about the situation, no matter how unfortunate. "We could use this opportunity. I'm not going to squander it because some irritating twenty-something has a bad attitude."

"I'd like it if we could push it through as soon as possible." A woman's voice? Eren couldn't tell. "The research department could use some extra funding, to be honest. Not that we're doing poorly or anything, but with more funding comes more success."

"Money solves everything," Levi stated, his voice obviously bitter, and Eren felt guilt drop down on him for reasons well known. The motives for these feelings eluded him however – as if he himself didn't understand them, or loathed doing so.

"Let's just get through this contract in preparation for the meeting tomorrow," President Smith settled the matter. "I don't want to be caught off guard by any of the fine print." And from there the voices faded to a murmur, Eren no longer able to distinguish what they were saying. Going to his bag, he pulled out a book and made himself comfortable on the bed. He wasn't a huge reader, but he enjoyed it now and again. Besides, there wasn't much else he could do.

Unfortunately, he wasn't called from his room until some four hours later. He'd fallen asleep, actually, and was jolted into awareness by Levi's harsh shouting of his name. Hastily shoving himself from the bed, he vaulted out into the other room, his eyes blinking awake as they adjusted to the lightened atmosphere.

"We're going to need more coffee up here," he explained, his eyes trained on the papers laid out on the coffee table split up between the others who were attending. Armin too, his attention coming up from a stack of papers a second later. Another of them looked up as well. At first Eren couldn't tell whether they were male or female, but then he caught on that this must be Hange Zoe, who he'd come to understand was a woman.

"Got your own personal slave there Levi," she taunted with a smile as she looked from Eren to the man she'd addressed. Levi looked up, not at all thrilled with her interpretation of the situation.

"I don't like it when strangers handle my personal business," he made perfectly clear. "He's getting paid for it." He then focused back down on the papers strewn out before him.

"I dunno Levi," President Smith joined in, his neatly combed blonde head not coming up to actually focus in. "Seems kind of suspicious."

"Then just as well for you. If he's a slave, he's yours. He works for you." Levi was looking directly at his boss, whose blue eyes finally flicked up. Eren had only seen President Smith a few times, but he'd always thought him a guarded man. Not unapproachably so, but simply as if he was always thinking more than what was flashing across his face. It was very different from Levi, who, though sometimes hard to understand, was always direct in everything he did.

"You work downstairs, right?" Hange had turned back to Eren, who hadn't missed the way the president had smiled at Levi's sass before refocusing. The last blonde man, slight facial hair littering his lower face, didn't seem to even be listening to anything going on around him.

"Er, yeah, I do," Eren verified. "I've been helping Mr. Ackerman with his office lately though."

"So that's why he doesn't consider you a stranger," she deduced. "I was wondering why he'd trust you with his 'business.'" She made air quotes with her fingers.

"Go get the coffee Eren," Levi commanded.

"Yes Sir," he nodded once, thankful for the escape from the scrutiny. He could hear Hange berating Levi as he left, but the noise was soon cut off by the door. He supposed he could go downstairs and simply send one of the hotel staff out to fetch the order, but he'd been cooped up in his hotel room all afternoon. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his thin sweatshirt, he headed right out the front doors, supposing there had to be a coffee place nearby.

Above his head, the sun had long since sunk, the sky ablaze with the city lights. So much so, in fact, that the stars were hidden. He could hear people down on the beach, traffic speeding up and down the road before him as he turned onto the sidewalk. Appreciating the chilled ocean breeze, he stretched his legs as he walked, his eyes scouring the buildings to his right for one that would serve his purposes.

It didn't take him long. Though it was dark, it was only just getting on nine o'clock. Plenty of places were still open and he soon he spotted a small strip mall with a coffee shop nestled in the corner. Stalking across the sparse parking lot toward it, he ignored a group if rough-housers standing outside a tobacco store and instead entered the brightly lit, air-conditioned door of the café.

He went straight to the counter where two men were working, his eyes trained on the menu as he considered what best to order.

"Looks like you're facing a tough decision," one of the boys addressed him, Eren looking down to see a man about his height smiling brightly at him.

"You could say that," Eren laughed. "I'm here with my… boss and a whole bunch of his colleagues. They sent me for coffee." The other man, someone about Eren's age with blue streaked hair, nodded in understanding.

"So you're trying to figure out what to get."

"Exactly," Eren flashed his own smile. Behind him, the door to the café had opened again, the boisterous crowd that had been standing outside previously filing in. Some four guys – all of them a little louder than really necessary.

"Well, usually for situations like this," the man behind the counter wasn't fazed however, "I recommend you order off our most popular. You know, just go down the list. If you do that, you're bound to hit positively with most." Eren could tell the young man was flirting with him. He was leaning forward on the counter far too attentively, a smile always moments away from his expression. It was flattering really. "How many are you buying for?"

"Six," Eren verified. "Well, five not including myself. But they're bound to be up pretty late so maybe two each?"

"Sounds perfect!" Another wide smile. Beside him, Eren noticed only quickly that the other man was helping the four that had walked in behind him. "I'll start that for you now." A peppy skip in his step, the young man went about his work, Eren waiting patiently at the counter. "So is this your first time in San Diego?" He'd looked at Eren momentarily over his shoulder, once again flashing him a smile.

"No," Eren replied with a good-natured shrug. "I used to come here a lot as a kid, and I've come probably every other year over the last ten years." He usually went back and forth between San Diego and Los Angeles on the one vacation Jean forced them all on once a year. Not that being forced to take a vacation was a bad thing.

"Oh yeah?" The cups were slowly piling up on the counter. "Where are you from?"

"Vegas."

"Really?" He received a set of impressed eyebrows. "I've been to Las Vegas a few times. Not that I was ever up to any good when I went there."

"Most people aren't," Eren laughed.

He didn't notice the way the men beside him were listening in on the conversation.

"It's always fun though. What do you do there?"

"I guess you could say I'm a secretary," Eren shrugged. He didn't divulge his other job. It never went over well. Most people didn't respond positively when someone said "oh, and at night I'm a stripper. But it's cool, I don't mind."

"You said you're here with your boss?"

"Yeah, he's got some important meetings and needed someone to fetch his coffee." Eren smiled again, getting the same in response as the cups began to reach their limit. Eren counted them and saw that only two more had to be put together. Each one was labeled with what it was, the young man having written such in permanent marker after each he'd finished.

"I'm sure you're good for more than just coffee," was the assurance he received, Eren having no comment and instead only continued to offer his smile. Soon enough he was paying, the cups then stacked into holders able to carry six at a time. Thus, with two empty slots, he was soon saying farewell and heading out the door, hands full.

Supposing that getting flirted with was probably a good way to end any day, he began his way across the parking lot in good spirits.

Behind him, the four other men had left the café and some were parting ways. Eren didn't notice that two of them had headed off in his same direction.

Instead, he found his thoughts going back to Levi, as they always seemed to do lately. He wondered, mischievously, how Levi would have reacted to such apparent flirting. Granted, the Levi in his head was far more into him than real-life Levi likely was, which was what made the thought so much more fulfilling. He was aware that it was a fantasy however, so it was okay. Or at least that was what he told himself.

The high off getting complimented so by a stranger was beginning to fade however. And it plummeted when Eren finally realized that there were footsteps behind him. Peering back over his shoulder, he pursed his lips in irritation when he saw that it was two of the men from the café. He'd thought they looked like they were up to no good. All he had on him was the company card, but even knowing he didn't have anything to give them wouldn't make getting mugged somehow okay.

He picked up his pace.

"No need to rush their honey," one of the men called up to him. "We don't want to hurt you."

"Why don't you just turn that pretty butt of yours back around and have a nice chat with us."

A chill immediately dropped down Eren's spine and he scowled. He'd dealt with this before, what with working at a gay club, but he usually didn't encounter such creeps just randomly out in the streets.

"Fuck off shitrags!" he yelled back at them, his voice as growly as he could make it. He knew he wasn't the most intimating figure ever. And he'd been told on many, many occasions that he did possess some more feminine characteristics. But that didn't give disgusting pervs the right to harass him. Nobody – men, women – should have to put up with such displays.

"Now, now, no need for such language," one of them replied. "We just want to talk to you. That's all."

"Not interested!" Eren made perfectly clear.

"How do you even know? You haven't so much as looked at us. Turn those pretty green eyes back here, hmm?"

"Fuck. Off!" He picked up his pace again, anxiety beginning to trip through his nerves. He wasn't far from the hotel and, upon hearing the way their footsteps got closer, he nearly broke out into a run.

"C'mon honey, we're just lookin' for a bit of fun! No harm, right? We're all guys here!" They laughed, as if their gender should somehow make it okay, and Eren gulped back his nerves as the pit of his stomach sank with apprehension. Thankfully, up ahead, he could see the lights of the hotel. Deciding to take a chance this close, he broke abruptly into a run, the men behind him yelling in outrage.

Eren was fast however and before they could reach him, he was skirting inside the hotel lobby, his lungs shallow with both exertion and tension. Pausing as he entered, he was thankful for the workers manning the front desk, the two of them looking at Eren in surprise as he walked red-faced back past them and toward the elevator. The coffee was still held at his sides, his hands tight around the cardboard handles as he was carried up to the top floor.

He hadn't realized his whole body was shaking until he was alone.

Knowing that if anyone were to see him in such a state, they'd realize that something had happened, he closed his eyes and tried to breathe calm into his figure. He didn't want to draw that kind of attention. Thus, as he was carried up, he closed his eyes and tried to steady both his nerves and his shivering. The time was short, but he hoped he'd mastered himself enough to at least drop off the coffee and return to his room.

With a single ring, the elevator doors slid open and he was forcing his legs to take him steadily through the hall. Really, all he wanted to do was rush through everything, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. But he couldn't. He had to be professional.

Keep it together.

"Oh, good!" Hange exclaimed as he walked in. "I'm about to fall asleep here." He didn't give a response, afraid of what might come out, and instead offered her a weak smile as he pushed his feet to the table. Hange was clearing a space of papers for the coffee to sit, but even then the bulky containers weren't going to fit. Setting them on the floor, Eren began to unload each cup, those who'd previously been working picking them up as he set them down and beginning to pass them around to each other accordingly.

It wasn't until he reached the last cup that some of Eren's control snapped. Fumbling suddenly with the cup, it slipped from his hands and dropped toward the floor. A few of those watching gasped, but Eren had quicker reflexes than their shock gave him credit for. Somewhat clumsily, he managed to catch the cup before it hit the ground, the liquid inside sloshing up against the lid as he took a relieved breath.

His hands shook slightly, but he hoped no one noticed.

"That was close," Hange laughed as he set the final cup on the table. "A pity it would have been too. I wanted that one." Reaching out, she claimed the nearly murdered cup for herself, Eren offering another silent, weak smile before backing away from the table.

"Are you alright Eren?" Armin had picked up on his mood however, his friend's blonde brows pulling together in concern.

"I'm just tired," Eren shrugged. "I'm actually going to go lay down. If you guys need anything else, just let me know." Though he really had no desire to go back outside. But if they asked…

"We're alright," the president assured, already refocused on his papers.

"Yeah, go lay down. Sleep for both of us," Hange encouraged with a wide smile, Eren feeling somewhat guilty that they were all stuck working while he got to sleep. His nerves over the previous encounter were stronger however and, thankful to get away, he headed back to his room and closed the door behind him. Shrouded in darkness, he stood for a moment and allowed his control to slip away. Still trembling a little, he toed over to the bed before sitting down on the edge.

Arms reaching up, he was soon hugging himself as he stared blankly down at the floor.

Despite being the stripper that he was, Eren usually had great self-esteem, at least physically. He knew he was in good shape and, despite being what some considered feminine, he was relatively attractive, or so he thought. He received proof of this after every dance he did. But that was the difference. When he walked out on stage, he was performing. He didn't advertise his body otherwise – didn't expect to be propositioned. There was a line between the Rogue Mask and Eren Yeager. But, perhaps because there had to be a line, he was more sensitive when he was treated so disgustingly outside the club.

It made him feel dirty, to have people attracted to him in that way when he was simply being himself. Like he was doing something wrong – walking too sexily, dressing too scantily. He knew it was silly – he was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt – but that reality didn't make the dirty feeling go away. Because there was a difference between him willingly objectifying himself and then having people do it otherwise. It made him want to rip his own skin off because apparently looking the way he did was punishable for some reason.

It was one of the few situations that could honestly make him feel the lowest of low. At least about himself. As a general rule, he owned that he was a stripper – that he had no qualms revealing his body and using it accordingly. But sometimes… sometimes, when people acted certain ways, he felt just as dirty as trash.

He hated that feeling.

Flopping down on the bed, he located the comforter and pulled it securely around his whole body, only the top of his head poking out as he stared into the fabric. Closing his eyes, he tried to will away the dirtiness. Convince himself that those guys had been assholes. But sometimes…

Sometimes it was just hard.

He didn't know how long he laid there, unable to sleep, but not wanting to get up either. Hours probably. He was so enveloped in the covers, and self-loathing, that he didn't even notice when the door to his room was opened. It wasn't until the weight shifted heavily on his bed that he knew someone was there with him.

Starting, he sat up directly, his eyes wide as he peered through the darkness.

"What's your problem?" Levi's harsh voice smacked at the shadows, Eren having to once again recover himself from a scare.

"You're not funny," he issued quite angrily, his defenses high.

"I'm not trying to be funny," Levi corrected, his tone snappish in response to Eren's own. Finally catching himself, the younger man looked away, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. Embarrassment, perhaps, about what had happened earlier. Unreasonable as it was.

"It's nothing," Eren finally lied. "I'm just tired."

"Don't fucking lie to me Eren," Levi practically scolded, drawing those green eyes back his way again. "I'm not an idiot. Don't insult my intelligence. Everyone could tell you were upset earlier. Now what happened?" Had he really hidden it that poorly?

"It doesn't matter." Pulling his legs up to his chest, he laid his head decidedly on his knees, intent on not bringing any more of his problems into Levi's peripherals. The older man had already put up with enough from him. He didn't need any more.

"Don't make me beat it out of you," he threatened then. "Because I will you little shit." His language, and forcefulness, was honestly surprising to Eren. Eyebrows furrowed, he met Levi's gaze through the darkness. Those gray eyes were narrowed, the intensity there pushing Eren into submission. It occurred to him, despite how prickly Levi was on the outside, that the older man was concerned.

He'd noticed something was wrong and had now come to ask about it. Not even Eren could convince himself there was some other motive. Not after what Levi had done for his mother – for him. Despite the separations between them, Levi was a compassionate person – even if he wasn't the best at showing it.

"It really doesn't matter," Eren continued to claim, though he knew his voice sounded a little more defeated this time. "Just… idiotic people."

Levi just stared at him then, waiting. Though Eren had the feeling he wouldn't do so all that patiently.

"I was coming back after getting the coffee and these guys were harassing me. It just… shook me up a little. That's all." It sounded odd to admit to. He had been raised in America after all, into the expected masculinity. His only saving grace was that he'd ended up gay and thus begun breaking down the social barriers that had been built around him. There was still that pride though, that masculine part of him that told him he should just shove it off and forget it'd ever happened.

"What were they doing?"

"I don't know!" Eren huffed, falling back against the headboard of the bed, his legs shooting back out straight. "Just… asshole stuff. You know.  _Stuff_." He looked away again.

Levi, however, was rather displeased with the news. And the delivery, were he being frank. Eren was acting childishly, which, he'd learned recently, was actually quite out of character. Whatever had actually happened, Eren didn't want to talk about it. Levi did however and, used to always getting his way, he soon found himself quite frustrated.

Reaching out, he balled his hand into a fist before bring it down hard on Eren's shin.

"Gah!" the younger man yelled, probably loud enough for those outside the room to hear (thankfully everyone had finally gone to bed). " _What the hell_?!" He was bent over, his injured leg cradled in his hands as he hugged it to his chest.

"Don't lie to me again," Levi said as he stood. Whipping around, he went directly to the door. He paused when he reached it, his head turning over his shoulder as he pulled Eren's attention his way once again. "The world is a disgusting place Eren," he said coldly. "Someone like you should be more careful." Leaving it at that, he finally left, Eren's door clicking closed behind him.

Scowling, Eren glared after him, his leg still throbbing. He went to bed disgruntled with Levi for the first time that night.

There was a spark at the bottom of his chest however, one that echoed with his bruise the following morning. Because as he rose to the San Diego sunlight, he was reminded that Levi had come to him out of concern. Had interrogated him because he'd noticed he'd been upset and thought him worthy of questioning.

He'd cared.


	6. Sorry You're a Chicken, Sir

Eren was a pretty good surfer. He wasn't Olympic level or anything (if surfing were in the Olympics that was), but he could take on the waves well enough. His father had been a California native, so back when he'd been around, his family (as well as Mikasa later on) had taken their summers in a California beach house, when his father had been working. That was when he'd learned. He'd spent many an afternoon out in the water, and was thankful then that his skills had worked out their rust well enough.

The group in the hotel had left around seven that morning for the beginning of their "Sunday Meeting," as Hange had un-fondly referred to it. Thus, Eren wouldn't be needed to run their errands until they returned, which he'd been told wouldn't be till later that afternoon. Based on the sun, and the way his muscles were stretched and worn, Eren thought it was nearing one o'clock. He didn't mind the soreness however, or even the exhaustion. It was invigorating really, and reminded him that he was actually doing something.

He wasn't even close to being tired, the next wave drawing his focus as he readied himself.

Beyond the water, back at the hotel, Levi was walking into the lobby in a rather ruffled, disgruntled manner. Unlike Eren, his morning hadn't been going particularly well. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, to be quite honest. The immature inheritor of the contract they were trying to rework was about as tolerable as a swarm of wasps making a nest in his shorts. The rest of them, able to hold their tongues better than he, had gone to lunch with the twerp, Levi lying and saying he had a conference call to take (on a Sunday?) and setting Armin up in his place.

He wasn't sure he had it in him to return to the meeting later that afternoon.

"Mr. Ackerman," he was greeted by the hotel front desk as he approached, his hands reaching down and unbuttoning the jacket of his suit as he did. "Welcome back Sir."

"I need to make a call to my room," he said straight without greeting.

"Uh, yes Sir," the girl nodded. A thoughtful expression came over her face however, Levi waiting for some kind of objection. "Although Sir, I don't think there's anyone there."

"One of my assistants should be there."

"The young man with brown hair?" She referenced Eren. "He left shortly after your group did. He was wearing a wetsuit and looked to be headed toward the beach." She gestured out the front doors. "He hasn't been back; at least, not that I've seen." And she'd been working the entire time.

"Really," Levi replied, not exactly sounding displeased, but not overly approving either. "Thank you." Turning away, he headed back out the door and across the parking lot to the street. Crossing the road as well, he soon came upon the beach, his face pulling into a scowl as he stared down at the sand.

He hated sand.

It was the worst for shoes though. Once sand got into shoes, it was as good as a lost cause. Supposing he'd just have to make the sacrifice, Levi bent down and slipped off his loafers, removing his socks shortly after and stuffing them inside the shoes. Locating a nearby bench, he set them down atop it before slipping off his jacket and laying it there as well. His tie was abandoned next. Lastly, he rolled the bottoms of his pants up his legs, finally deeming himself prepared to walk across the sand to Eren, who he'd spotted in the water long before.

Sighing as the sand sank up between his toes, he hunkered his way to the shore, eyes trained on the dark figure out in the water, sitting atop a surfboard. He hadn't seen a surfboard in Eren's room when he'd been in there, but perhaps he'd rented one.

There weren't that many more people out on the beach. At least, not like some beaches were crowded. Probably because the area didn't have the best beach access. As Levi got to the edge, he came across a ledge of shiny, sharp rocks, his eyes rolling as he made his way over them and continued out across the relatively rough terrain to the water. Eren hadn't noticed him, Levi soon stopping to watch as a wave began to roll in.

Eren visibly tensed, his arms pulling him further out to sea as he got ready to stand. Soon enough, the wave was fully on him, Eren easily standing and beginning to skim down across it. Quite like it was nothing – effortless. Levi watched the show silently, Eren's experience with the water obvious as he rode the wave to its death before hitting the surf and straightening out toward the shore, riding it down before eventually sitting back down.

Facing the beach, he finally spotted Levi standing there, his hand reaching up to wipe his dripping hair from his face. Leaning forward, he pushed his way into the waves and to the beach, coming to meet his boss on the sand. Abandoning the board while still in the water, he grabbed it up under his arm before jogging up into the sand. His wetsuit clung to his thin, muscled form, the board strapped by a tether to his ankle.

"Sir," he breathed as he approached, his hair slicked back against his skull as water dripped down his body. "I was just about to head back in. Give me a moment to-"

"No you weren't," Levi corrected quite knowingly, Eren's face falling some. "Not that I was expecting you to. I'm the only one that's returned and was told you were out here. I didn't come to order coffee or donuts or whatever other cliché you can come up with."

"O-okay," Eren replied, still somewhat unclear as to what was happening.

"I couldn't take that spoiled asshole anymore," he continued to explain. "I was only coming to find out what you were doing. I haven't had an intelligent conversation all day." He crossed his arms over his chest, Eren unsure whether he should feel complimented or not.

"I'll do my best," Eren smiled shortly.

"Where did you learn to surf?"

"Uh, my dad taught me," he explained. "Before he left. He had a beach house, once, and we used to spend the summers there when I was little." He turned to look out at the water again. "I spent days out there, doing this." It was one of the few good memories he had from his childhood. Tainted by bitterness because of his father.

"Are you any good?" Because Levi really had no idea.

"Uh, I'm okay," Eren shrugged, focusing back in on the older man. "I mean, I'm good enough to pass judgment, I guess." It was a hard thing to figure really, especially since he only ever went surfing by himself. He had his own board and everything (hadn't brought it because that would have been highly unprofessional), but he didn't compete. Or have any desire to.

Levi didn't have a response to that, Eren seeing the way his eyes went back to the waves before returning to scrutinize Eren's board. It was then, green eyes sparking, that the idea came to him.

"I can take you out, if you want." The offer sprang from Eren's lips before he could stop it.

"No," Levi said flatly. "I'm quite satisfied to stay on the beach, thanks."

"C'mon," Eren was smiling again. "Have you ever been surfing before? It's really not as impossible as it looks."

"No, I've never been, and I have no desire. You can go back out. I'll stay here."

"Everyone should try it at least once," Eren tried to convince him, aware that moving such an iron will would be difficult. "If you've never gone, you should give it a shot. Who knows, maybe you'll like it." He was careful not to be too overbearing about the idea however, aware that Levi was, in a sense, still his boss.

"It's quite alright Eren," he waved him off simply. "I've never had much affinity for water sports." The way he said as much however, well, Eren sensed something – a lie maybe, or at least not an entire truth. As if Levi were refusing for more reasons than just disinterest.

Eren tried to remain serious, "I won't let you drown Sir, I promise." Yes, he took that chance.

Levi eyed him sharply in response, Eren nearly flinching away from the severe look. It was apparent, despite Levi's lack of expression, that he'd hit the nail on the head. Making sure his eyes fell down to his feet, Eren made himself appropriately submissive.

Levi sighed. "I've never been the strongest swimmer Eren," he admitted straight. "I'd rather not be put in a position where those skills have to be tested."

"But… if you never practice, you'll never get better…" Eren offered meekly.

"I'd rather practice alone, thanks," he made perfectly clear.

"You shouldn't learn to surf alone," Eren looked back up at him, daring to push the subject. "I'm a great swimmer. Even if you couldn't swim at all, you'd be safe with me." He tried to be careful around Levi's vulnerability, as if he was skirting a burning bush or something.

"I'd really rather not," yet he remained civil in his rejection, which made convincing him that much more difficult.

"Just one time," Eren held up a single finger. "One wave." He waggled it, smiling sheepishly. "That's all. Just one."

"No."

" _One time_ ," Eren was smiling now, feeling as though he might be able to get away with acting a little less formal with Levi. They did see each other nearly everyday after all, workout at the same time (because Eren wasn't sure he considered their workouts as something they did "together"), drink coffee at the same table every morning. Was it so farfetched to consider them friends? "If you do it just one time, I'll never bother you about it again."

"We live in Las Vegas," Levi deadpanned. "I don't think I'll have to worry about that."

"Please, please, please," Eren smiled as endearingly as he could. "It's fun, I promise."

"Why do you care so much whether I've ever gone surfing before or not anyway?"

"Because…" It was a validly good question actually. "Well, I don't know, but you shouldn't refuse new experiences because you've never done them before." Otherwise Eren wouldn't have done nearly the things he had. Like buying a motorcycle. Or pole dancing. Though, he supposed, some could debate whether those were good decisions.

"I do it all the time." Levi was one of those people.

"C'mon!" Eren continued to pester. "You'll regret it if you don't."

"Pretty sure not." Levi was quite positive he could continue on in life just fine without setting a single foot in the ocean, disgusting place that it was.

"Ugh, you're killing me here!" Eren was finally getting fed up. Well, perhaps it'd been a lost cause anyway. "Fine," he picked his board up out of the sand where he'd stuck it and went to turn back to the water. "Stay here if you want. Be the guy who never has any fun."

"Excuse me?" Levi's voice was steely. "Just because my interests don't line up with yours doesn't mean I don't have any fun." That had rubbed him the wrong way, Eren pausing in his retreat to latch onto the defense.

"How do you even know that it wouldn't be fun?" Eren countered. "That is, if you never try it." Shrugging, he sighed rather too deeply. It was then, as he started to step toward the water, that he took the final blade and jabbed in. "Unless, of course, you're just scared." With a safe distance between them, he was comfortable he could run away.

"What?"

"Scared," he shrugged, turning but continually backing toward the water. "Cuz you can't swim."

"I said I wasn't very good," Levi quoted. "Not that I couldn't do it."

"If that's what they're calling it these days."

"You're a little shit."

"You're a chicken shit." Eren smiled, quite proud of himself for not buckling. His heel was hitting the water however, the saltiness washing up against the edges of his wetsuit. He only had a few more moments before he'd be forced to give in.

"I should fire you for that."

"You won't though," Eren was still smiling. "Now are you gonna come in the water or stand up there like a coward?"

"I fucking hate you," Levi decided, his bare feet carrying him across Eren's tracks. "Yes-ing" to himself, Eren counted it a victory to see Levi's pale feet hit the water, his mouth pulling in disgust as his toes were submerged in the disgusting liquid.

"Okay, come with me," Eren issued, finding it nicely satisfying to be the one between them with the upper hand. Together, they waded out into the water, Levi not seeming to care that he was still dressed in his slacks and good shirt. The salty smell would never leave them – they were as good as trash – but if he was willing to face the "filth of the ocean," Eren supposed replacement items were hardly a problem. Not like the guy didn't make enough money or something.

"Alright, so…" And now Eren actually had to consider what he was doing. He'd seen other surf instructors ride double before, but it hadn't always been the most comfortable position. Well… he'd just see how it went. "First thing you need to know," he gestured Levi up to the board, the water swirling around Eren's knees (and somewhat around the middle of Levi's thighs), "is how to put yourself on the board. First, when you're, like, lying on the board, your toes should be touching the back. And this line here," he traced his finger over a red line running down the center, "needs to go right down the middle of your body."

Levi was listening, his eyes intent on the board as he crossed his arms over his chest. Eren tried to continue smoothly. He went on to properly explain how to pop up, how he should center himself, and what not to do. Of course, Eren knew Levi was going to fall his first time, and probably every time he tried after that, but he wasn't going to say that out loud.

"So… why don't you get on the board then," Eren issued, stepping around to hold it steady by the front. And Levi, with a very annoyed sigh, quite gracefully threw his leg over the board, Eren detaching it from his leg while he did. Soon he was lying flat out on his stomach, looking quite ridiculous in his dress clothes. They were all thoroughly wet now however, his white shirt transparent in places, and Eren had to stop himself from smiling happily at the sight. Not because it was funny, but because he found he was quite overjoyed to be doing something fun with Levi. Or, at least, what  _he_  considered fun.

"Alright, I'll come out in the water with you," Eren explained as he waded his way to the back. Levi was paddling the board forward at the same time, Eren remaining behind to assist. And as the water became too high for him, he allowed his body to lift up in the water, his arms pulling him up over Levi along the edges of the board. It wasn't until it was too late that he realized just what was happening, his arms straining as his brain froze for a moment.

The ocean was a rough client however and Eren knew, no matter how willful Levi was, that he'd be pushed around by the water. He was going to need Eren to get him into the proper position.

"Sorry about this," was all he said then as he allowed the upper half of his body to be dropped against Levi's lower. With his chin hovering just above the base of Levi's spine, he ignored the inappropriate thoughts that wanted to spring up as he began to paddle further out into the water. He could feel Levi's thighs against his chest, legs against his torso, and his rear, well, he really needed to focus.

"Okay, so there's a wave coming up here. Doesn't look too big," or it wouldn't be once it had reached them. They weren't that far out in the water really. "I'm going to get you facing back to the beach and once it hits, I'm going to push you forward a little and let go. That's when you stand up, okay?"

"If I drown Eren, I'm going to kill you."

"Yes Sir. I won't stop you," Eren replied as he paddled both his arms and legs in the right direction to get Levi facing the beach. He could feel the momentum of the wave behind him and, with a simple "here we go" for the sake of his pupil, clamped his hands around the board again before letting go and shoving it forward into the wave. He was pummeled from behind, but kept his eyes trained on Levi as the board was caught up in the current.

He had to give his boss some kudos. Most first-timers wouldn't have even succeeded in standing, but Levi did.

Before promptly tumbling into the water.

Taking a deep breath, Eren sent himself swimming forward, easily pulled along by the waves and able to reach the board and Levi before they were pushed totally into shore. The water only came up to around mid-thigh where they currently were, so there was no threat of drowning, but Levi was quite soaked, Eren unable to stop himself smiling as the older man righted himself.

Hair a dripping mess, he coughed once, his face contorting in disgust at the taste of salt water. His clothes were certainly soaked now, Eren easily able to make out his figure through the transparently white fabric.

"See?" he tried to offer as Levi pushed his hair out of his face. "Not so bad."

"You should be satisfied now," Levi decided.

"Oh come on," Eren pestered. "You're already wet and dirty. Might as well keep trying. Please?"

Levi sighed. But apparently Eren's logic stood because he didn't retreat. Instead, repeating the same actions as before, they headed back out into the water. Neither were keeping track of how many attempts were made to surf the waves, but a few hours must have passed before Levi finally decided he'd really had enough. He'd managed to stay upright on the board quite successfully, but the waves were still knocking him about. He was soaked and pruny, his final go of it decided when the water washed both him and the board completely to shore. Sitting down in the sand, he wiped the filth unsuccessfully from his hands with a scowl as Eren followed up behind him.

This time around Eren didn't object to Levi's decision to stop. They'd been out in the water for a considerable amount of time and he was quite satisfied with the whole experience. Not only had he been given the opportunity to hang out with Levi outside of work, but it'd been quite up close and personal. Not that he'd taken advantage of such or anything, but he doubted he'd ever be that physically close to Levi ever again, so he allowed himself at least that satisfaction.

"See? I knew you wouldn't regret it." Eren was smiling as he flopped down in the sand beside Levi, his wetsuit soon coated in a thin layer of the grainy earth.

"That's debatable," Levi replied as he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the strands back along the top of his head. Versus Eren who, content that the water wasn't dripping in his eyes, allowed his locks to plaster around his eyes. Scrutinizing as much, Levi pursed his lips before rather roughly reaching up and shoving Eren's hair back as well, the young man staring at him in alarm. "I like to be able to see the faces of the people I'm talking to," he explained, making sure there was an extra layer of disgust in his voice for good measure.

"I'll remember that," Eren replied as he more efficiently dragged his hair back. "Maybe I'll cut it actually," he started thoughtlessly. "It's getting a little long." He fingered a strand of the dark brown mop.

"You'd probably look less like a homeless person," Levi stated, quite as though it wasn't an insult.

"Gee, thanks," Eren scoffed, his legs stretching out before him. "You're the one that looks like a hobo right now. At least I fit the picture." He gestured out across the ocean.

"And whose fault is that?" Levi's sharp eyes twitched to him.

"I didn't push you in the water." Eren raised his hands, sufficiently de-guilting himself. "You went in all on your own."

"I know that," Levi replied in his typical fashion, standing once again. For once Eren was looking up at him, his mouth hanging open slightly as Levi stared out across the ocean. He admired Levi's strictly lined jaw, his pointed features and slitted eyes. He was like a corner, really, in a way, but that only made him all the more interesting to Eren. Because at every corner, there were two sides. Not to say that Levi was two-faced, but rather that there was always something Eren wasn't seeing – a mystery waiting to be solved. He just wanted to know everything about the man.

"I'm going to head back to the hotel," he said a few seconds later. Turning without missing a beat, he started his way back across the rocky shore, Eren scrambling to his feet and grabbing up the rented board. For a moment, he considered whether he should tell Levi that "he'd be right back, he was going to go return the board" or whether this was as good as farewell. Was he now released of Levi's company?

Not wanting to come off as awkwardly tagging along to every move he made, Eren decided to remain silent. Lips pursing some, he began to head off to the "shack" down the beach where boards and equipment were being rented out. And despite how he wanted to, he refused to look back and watch Levi. Instead, he set his eyes intentionally on the building.

Reaching it, he was met by one of the women who worked there, who began checking his board back in and finalizing the paperwork. She wasn't a talkative person, silence heavy between them as Eren thought back on the afternoon, specifically the parts with Levi. Actually, it was entirely those parts.

He didn't see the two men that had walked in after him.

"Well, look who it is." He  _did_  recognize the voice however. Turning swiftly around, he spotted the two men clearly for the first time. They didn't look entirely threatening, dressed in beach clothes as they were, but Eren wouldn't have mistaken that taunting voice.

His response was immediate. "Fuck off," he spat, the woman working with him looking up in surprise. The two men didn't take the hint however, instead each one of them coming up on either side of Eren with stupid grins on their faces.

"No need to be nasty now," the one on the left issued as he reached forward to finger one of the bracelets on the counter. "We're not here to bother you." It was quite obvious by the tone of his voice that that wasn't the case however, Eren thankful when he was finally handed his receipt so he could leave. Backing out from between them, he whipped around and left the "shack," quite aware of the way they followed him.

"Don't run off now Green Eyes," the second one said as they jogged up beside him. "You're looking quite nice in that wetsuit." The last had been whispered, Eren scowling at how close the words had come to his ears.

"If you two don't get the fuck away from me, I'm going to beat the shit out of you both," he threatened through gritted teeth, his stomach once again tightening in nerves.

"No need for the attitude," the first one said as he reached up and fingered the side of Eren's neck.

"Do  _not_  fucking touch me!" Eren hissed as he reached up and rather violently tossed the hand away. And when the man, still grinning, reached out as if to do it again, Eren forcefully shoved him back by the shoulders. He stumbled, that smug look finally vanishing from his face.

"Careful honey," the other one said behind him, Eren whipping around to face him. "The odds aren't in your favor."

"I wouldn't say that was the case." Eyes widening, Eren whipped his head over his shoulder to see Levi standing there. Arms crossed over his chest, the older man was looking quite normal, aside from the wet clothes.

"Who's this?" the man that Eren has shoved away asked, his face seemingly amused. "Your boyfriend?"

"I don't see how any of that is your business," Levi drew their attention back his way. "Now I suggest you leave before things progress any further."

"And what are you gonna do shrimp?" the second man asked through a scowl, Levi cocking a single eyebrow at the name (a name Eren would never have dared to call him even on the best of days).

"Do you really want to find out?" Levi asked pointedly. And the two men, despite being good sized, didn't exactly retaliate. Rather, looking around at the way their scuffle had drawn the eyes of other beachgoers, they backed down. However, they eyed Levi aggressively as they did before both their gazes dropped to Eren. Abruptly, again, Eren felt as though he were somehow exposing too much, the looks in their eyes seeming to peel his wetsuit right off of him.

"Let's go Eren," Levi commanded a second later, Eren unable to dissuade his arms from wrapping around his middle as he trailed bare-footed after his boss. They stopped at a bench to gather up Levi's extra clothes before then heading across the road to the hotel. Eren didn't miss the way Levi held open the door for him, his silver eyes surveying the scene behind before he followed him in. Without acknowledging the woman behind the desk, they headed to the elevator, Eren unable to look up from the ground as the doors closed behind them.

"Were they the same ones from last night?" Levi asked almost immediately.

"Yes," Ere replied quietly, unable to hide how his face reddened in shame. He hadn't wanted anyone to get involved in this, let alone Levi.

"Don't go out by yourself while we're here anymore," was the command he was given. Eren had nothing to say in response to that, supposing it was probably the best option to consider. He still couldn't look up, missing the way Levi had glanced over at him – and seen the way he stood hunched, arms folded around his body in humiliation.

"Don't blame yourself for what those guys were doing," Levi said straight, Eren finally finding the nerve to look his way. "They're assholes and that doesn't have anything to do with you."

"I know that," Eren verified as their elevator came to a stop. Walking out, they trailed sand down the carpet.

"You just look like you did something wrong," he made blatantly clear.

And Eren didn't answer.

"It wouldn't matter if you were walking around naked Eren," Levi said quite strictly as he opened the door to the rooms, ushering Eren in first. "Hey!" he grabbed Eren by the arm, whipping him around to face him rather roughly. Eren stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. "You haven't done anything wrong, understand?"

"Y-yes," Eren nodded.

"Good," Levi dropped him, slamming the door closed behind him as he did. Jumping at the bang, Eren realized for the first time since they'd walked in that Levi was… angry. Mad. His movements were harsher, his steps deliberate. It left Eren standing in the living area quite unsure what to do with himself. Or how to interpret.

"Like I said last night," Levi stopped and looked at him again, just outside his own personal room, "you need to be careful. You shouldn't have to be, but someone like you  _has_  to be." And with that, he entered his own room, once again slamming the door behind him.

Eren gulped, heavy silence falling down on his shoulders. He stood, still wet, on the carpet for a few moments, allowing all of what had just happened to sink in. It didn't occur to him until some few minutes later that Levi had given him a compliment. Sort of. Though he'd said it as a warning, that was twice that he'd acknowledged thinking Eren attractive. At least on a basic level.

Thus, despite how he should be considering the real dangers, Eren headed to his room feeling a little better. A little warmer, maybe.

Stripping off his wetsuit once he'd closed the door, he was soon in his personal bathroom sitting nude on the edge of the tub while it filled. The hotel had come with a plethora of fancy soaps and salts, Eren familiar enough with "beauty" products to know how to use them. Wanting to relax after what had just happened, he organized the water appropriately, white bubbles forming as it filled. Once it was finished, he slid into the hot water, relishing in the way it seemed to burn the day from his skin.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and willed away his anxieties.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of the door that he opened them again. Glancing over, alarmed, he became even more shocked when he saw Levi's short form standing there. In only a towel.

"Uh, S-sir?" he choked out as he straightened some in the tub. "Can I help you?" Looking down, he checked to make sure he was still covered by the suds, somewhat disconcerted to see that they'd dissolved some. Under his surprise, however, pumped something else, his heart jumping excitedly into his throat.

Levi didn't answer him however, those silver eyes seeming to be looking him over. Blushing, Eren withstood the scrutiny, not entirely sure what he should be doing. His mind was soon sunk further however, his thoughts frazzling, as Levi walked closer to the tub. Staring up at him through wide eyes, Eren watched as he sat down on the side of the tub.

Unsure if he was even breathing, Eren met his cool, collected gaze, abruptly aware of his own body and how completely naked they both were. Gulping once, he was struck even further into melted silence when Levi reached out and ran his fingers along the side of his jaw. If he were in control of himself, Eren might have focused on the way his touch lingered against his own skin, that burn, but all he registered was the way the bottom of his stomach surged.

He knew what was going to happen. Somehow, he just knew.

Which was why, when Levi slid from the edge of the tub into the water, Eren wasn't necessarily unsuspecting. There were still no words however, his eyes locked with those silver ones as Levi's towel was removed and dropped outside the tub. Nerves sparking, Eren tried to calm himself enough to actually take in what was happening, but when Levi lowered his lips to Eren's neck, he nearly lost it.

Bucking his hips, he was sure he'd met force back – Levi's own muscled form – but the sheer power of the sensations ripping through him seemed to take over. Levi's hands were on him, trailing through the water down his sides, his legs trapping him inside the tub. Hands coming up to grip at Levi's shoulders, Eren closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing, but it was like he was some pre-pubescent teen all over again. His hips moved against his will, heat running all through him as Levi's lips dragged down his neck and across his chest. The pressure continued to build, his whole abdomen tensing. He wanted to tell Levi to stop, to slow down, but it was as though his voice was clogged.

He wanted it. He wanted it  _so bad_.

Which was why he nearly screamed when the door opened again.

Surging forward, he was breathing hard as the water splashed around him. Glancing over, he saw that no one had come in. He was alone.

Alone.

Levi wasn't there, his towel not laying on the floor. The water in the tub was room temperature, the bubbles nearly gone. Breath shaking, Eren slowly sank back down, his whole body trembling as he heard voices outside his room.

Everyone else had just come back. The front door – that was what he had heard.

And the Levi that had been with him had been a phantom. A dream.

The let down left him cold, his ecstasy cut short by reality and leaving him sorely disappointed. Reaching down bitterly, he finished what the dream had started, soon staring up at the ceiling with a heavy weight on his chest. This wasn't the first time this had happened, of course, but it was always the same disappointment. Which only served to remind him further how head over heels he'd fallen for his boss. And how ridiculous it all was.

Not at all comforted by the bath, he was soon getting out and toweling off. Changing into a pair of pajama slacks (green striped) and a black tank top, he then collapsed in bed and began, like he often did, to consider just what chance he actually stood with Levi.

The answer never came back to him positively.

Feeling worse than he had when he'd started his bath, he curled up in his bed and stared out at the late evening sunlight, which was shining in from his one lonely window. Outside his room, he could hear the rumble of voices opposite where his room was located. It didn't make him feel any better when he could almost immediately pick out the sounds that were Levi.

It wasn't fair, how much he wanted something to happen between them.

But Levi couldn't possibly see him that way…

"We were going to go out for dinner," Hange was saying, the fact that Eren could hear her clearly telling him that she was standing just outside his door. Across the room, Levi said something in response. "To that one seafood place down by the beach," she replied. Levi again. "Vegetarians don't eat seafood?"

Eren was pretty positive that Levi had replied with a strict "no."

"Then don't come," Hange replied uncaringly. "I'll just invite Eren and-" Someone else was saying something, Armin perhaps. "Eren is a vegetarian too?! Oh my god, that's just ridiculous." Levi once more. "Then you both can stay here and eat leaves for all I care. I'm hungry! Erwin, let's go!"

Apparently Eren wasn't even going to be given an invitation then. Not that he minded. He kind of wanted to be left alone. Sometimes he hated having feelings for people – it just made him depressed more often than not.

Soon he heard the filing of feet, the front door opening and closing soon after. The noise was gone, Eren supposing that he and Levi were alone in the hotel once again. Not that such should appeal to him. Maybe he'd just go to bed.

He was interrupted before he could even fully consider the option however.

"Hey," Levi's voice caught his attention from the other side of the door, his eyes flicking that way. "Are you hungry."

Eren decided he wasn't. "No."

Levi didn't speak to him again for the rest of the night. Instead, only considering Eren's downed mood for a moment, he instead located the hotel menu and ordered the only vegetarian option there. He wasn't too enthused about it, but supposed there wasn't much he could do. He'd dealt with similar situations previously.

Placing himself on one of the couches, he faced the window and watched the sun sink, his thoughts eventually finding their way back to Eren. He wasn't sure what his problem was, to be frank. Sure, it was disrespectful what those assholes had done, but it didn't seem to justify staying holed up like a pouting brat. Levi tried not to be irritated by it however, considering that, perhaps, there was more to Eren's mood than that. He supposed giving him the benefit of the doubt was the reasonable thing to do.

The most disconcerting thing, however, was how worried he found himself to be. About Eren that was. He supposed he'd noticed the change after the episode with Mrs. Yeager. He'd seen another side to Eren that day – one that wasn't just the beautifully blessed young man that worked a dead-end job as a receptionist. He'd seen the real Eren that day, not just the smile, and, to be honest, it made him that much more beautiful – in the most objective ways possible. Because of that episode, when Eren smiled, Levi took it much more seriously.

Petra had been right he'd realized. Eren wasn't a child. When he'd originally told Levi that he worked two jobs, he hadn't thought much of it, but he'd learned a lot since then. How much of Eren's paychecks had gone to insurance every month? To other expenses his mother had required, like medication? To school payments before Mikasa had graduated? And how long, exactly, had he been working multiple jobs in order to support his family? If he'd dropped out of school, then it must have been well into his early teens.

Seeing the carefree young man that he pretended to be was deceiving, but also intriguing. To the point that, as of recently, Levi had realized that he'd become oddly protective of the young man. After all, he didn't deserve the life he'd led so far. Levi had been there, seen his own hardship, and he didn't want Eren to end up as bad off as he had been at some points – if the young man wasn't already there.

He knew, in the back of his mind, that part of him was attracted to Eren. But that attraction was cold. He was able to acknowledge that Eren was a good person – an incredible person even – and that he was extremely attractive. They got along well enough, which was saying a lot when it came to Levi, and seemed to have a considerable amount in common. By all rights, Levi should be very interested in him.

Unfortunately, he just wasn't.

And he knew why too. It didn't matter what he did, or who he saw, or what he thought of, but he just couldn't get that stripper out of his head. Like a dancing devil on the edges of his mind, his lust over him lingered always. He spent nights going over the shows he'd seen and the days waiting for the next ones. And when he came on stage, all of Levi's focus fell down between his legs. His desire to have the dancer grew more and more intense all the time, to the point where even strikingly beautiful people like Eren did absolutely nothing for him.

He'd either have the dancer or no one at all.

However, he hadn't managed to find out anything about him. He'd asked waiters bartenders, but none of them would budge on the subject. They wouldn't even tell him the dancer's real name. It'd gotten to the point where he read during the other acts because they disinterested him so (though he probably wouldn't have been very interested anyway).

Until he could release his passion over that particular man, he wasn't going to be able to even look at Eren and care – at least in that particular fashion.

Which was, well, unfortunate. Mostly because he could tell Eren liked  _him_. He wasn't stupid after all. And Eren wasn't exactly discreet. Between the flirting, the smiling, and the constant staring, he could read Eren like an open book.

It irritated him actually, the fact that he couldn't get over the stripper. After all, it wasn't like he was going to date the dancer. Eren was a far better choice, but when he looked at him, there was no desirability. Completely dead, flat. And when he went to the club, he felt exhilarated. Frustrated, but more alive than he'd been since Ian had cheated on him. Maybe even so before that.

Eren just did nothing for him. At least, not in comparison to the "Rogue Mask."

Even as he thought of the dancer then, his whole body got buzzed. The way he moved, the emotion he so effortlessly portrayed, it was mesmerizing to him. Levi knew he was alone in this. Granted, everyone in the club was generally impressed by what the dancer did, but none of them came back night after night after night just to see  _him_ , and spent a good chunk of their paycheck on  _him_. Watching him was like a drug (because Levi was well-versed enough with drugs to understand that). An addiction that, even as the weekend slowly passed, tormented Levi with phantom withdrawals.

He could watch that dancer for eternity and not mind, or sometimes he felt.

Over and over he played through his head. An unreachable ghost Levi chased to no avail.

And yet, no matter how strong, it was all purely physical. He knew that. He didn't care one bit about the dancer – about his day-to-day struggles. The emotion he portrayed through his movements might have meant more if Levi knew what motivated them, but that wasn't what he cared about. He had no desire to care. Honestly, like a drug or the drink, the dancer was just an object to him. An alluring, addictive object, but an object nonetheless – one that he  _wanted_. He didn't give a damn about the person, and had no desire to.

If he could just get what he needed, then he thought he'd probably be over it.

But he couldn't even get a name…

Outside, night had fallen, the stars beyond clouded by the city lights.

**oOo**

The rest of the trip had been fairly uneventful, or at least for Eren it had been. Soon it was Tuesday, Eren sitting in the ES Research cafeteria across from Armin, rather tired and thinking about having seen Levi at the club the night before. Mostly because, despite how they worked out in the morning, the time he was granted to see the older man was going to be diminished greatly. He and Armin had finally finished cleaning out his office, which meant Eren would be returning to his regular job. Now it was only during the mornings and some nights that he'd get to see him, the latter of which without the luxury of conversation.

"Are you alright?" Armin jolted him from his thoughts, the fact that he'd been absentmindedly poking his fork at his broccoli only furthering his roommate's concern. "You've been kind of down since the trip." And during the trip for that matter.

"I'm alright," Eren smiled weakly. "Just tired." The default answer that always explained and failed to explain all at once.

"Well don't be tired!" Hange had appeared at of nowhere, both Armin and Eren flicking their eyes up to watch as she sat down with them. Their table was round, her position somewhat between the two. "It's a new day! No time for exhaustion." She was clearly awake, her brown eyes wide as she smiled at the both of them. Armin, who knew Hange better than Eren, didn't seem the least bit perturbed by her presence. Eren wasn't used to lunching with her however. Most of the time the "big bosses" had lunches to go to and didn't frequent the cafeteria. Even Armin was gone a good majority of the time.

Apparently, however, they did show up on occasion.

"I'm actually glad you're here Eren," Hange addressed him directly, Eren trying to remain as normal as possible despite who she was. "Armin told me yesterday that you're a homosexual and I have a question for you." Green eyes darting to his roommate, Eren pursed his lips when Armin refused to look at him.

"Okay…" Eren glanced back to Hange. "What is it…?" He was always hesitant when someone addressed him so. Generalizing him by his sexual orientation never led anywhere good.

"Well, I've been repainting my house," she started, quite as though it was just a regular, run-of-mill conversation, "and I can't choose between these two colors." She slid to swatches across to Eren as she shoved a spoonful of pudding into her mouth. "You should know which is better though, right?"

"Ah…"

"He's gay Hange, not an interior decorator." Levi's voice came up from behind Eren, who turned to see him making his way over to their table as well. He sat down across from Hange, the four of them sufficiently taking up each "side" of the circle.

"Yeah, I don't… really know anything about that," Eren pushed the swatches delicately back her way, ignoring how his heart jumped when Levi made himself comfortable at their table.

"I just thought I'd ask," she replied snottily to Levi.

"You're generalizing," Levi corrected her flatly. "Also, the one on the top will make it look like someone threw up all over your walls, so don't use that one." He then looked down at his own cafeteria food and scowled.

Hange narrowed here eyes at him. "Are you gay?"

"Generalizations Hange," Levi said again, though he didn't answer her question either. Eren smiled to himself, catching the way Armin had looked at him. Neither commented however, instead allowing the conversation to go on without them.

"I just wanted some advice is all," she pouted. "And I'm not good at this sort of thing."

"Then  _ask_  an interior decorator." Levi was scrutinizing a pea he'd caught on the tip of his fork.

"I don't know any."

"Well, singling out someone because of their sexuality doesn't help your cause any either."

"What are you guys talking about?" Next to come upon them was President Smith, Eren continually astounded at the group of people he was affiliating with. After all, he was nearly last on the totem pole. "By the sounds of it, it's not work appropriate." Chairs moving, they made space as President Smith sat down beside Hange and his assistant Mike beside Levi. This pushed both President Smith and Levi up next to Eren, who tensed his shoulders and wondered if this was okay.

"We're discussing Eren's sexuality," Hange replied blatantly.

"Like I said, not work appropriate," the president repeated, though he didn't sound all that entirely invested in what he said. Around them, a few had glanced to the table, not used to seeing so many higher-ups in the cafeteria at one time.

"Hey!" Eren glanced over at Levi at his outburst, his eyebrows rising when he saw that Mike had stuck his spoon into Levi's pudding cup and then promptly eaten the share that had come back on it. "I was going to eat that." Mike didn't respond at all however, Levi left to stare down at his cup in disgust.

"Here Sir," Eren picked up his own, which hadn't been opened. "I'll eat that one." He then switched them, not thinking anything of it and quite unaware of the way a few others at the table stared at him.

"You've got him trained Levi," Hange commented soon after. "Trained to your neurotic need to keep everything as germ free as possible."

"I wasn't aware that cleanliness was a fault," he countered. "Not that you'd know anything about that."

"I'm perfectly clean," she replied. "Well, clean enough anyway. Don't question my genius."

Levi scoffed. Eren was eating the Mike-tested pudding.

"Your office cleaned out yet Levi?" the president asked, not sounding honestly interested. He was focused down on his food, his blue eyes as masked at they always were.

"Just finished it today," he explained. "I'm getting the carpet pulled up tomorrow and then I'll start moving in new furniture." Eren didn't miss the way his voice heightened slightly, hardly enough to matter. It told him Levi was excited, perhaps, and he smiled to himself.

"You're pulling up the carpet?" Hange deadpanned.

"Carpet is disgusting," Levi replied easily. "Holds all kinds of gross dirt and crap."

"You can't go through life avoiding carpet," she decided. "Did you get all the carpets pulled up in your house too? Seems like a waste."

"I don't live in a house, I live in a penthouse," Levi corrected. "And I made sure it was entirely made up of hard floors before I bought it." He looked at her pointedly, Eren still smiling to himself as he finished the pudding while Hange rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of moving in," Smith interjected, "don't forget the party on Wednesday." He finally looked up, his blue eyes locked on Levi, whose shoulders had dropped depressingly. "It's your party Levi, so you have to go."

"I didn't ask for a party," Levi made perfectly clear.

"Just because it's your party, doesn't mean it's for you," Smith explained. "Think of it as a business meeting, only with cocktails and fancy clothes." Levi looked even more disgusted if at all possible.

"Sometimes corporate life is stupid," he decided, his comment coming off as rather childish, which continued to make Eren smile beside him. He remained silently focused on his food however, unaware of the way Armin shook his head at his expression.

"I could always fire you," Smith shrugged.

"Then I wouldn't have to worry about it," Levi agreed.

"Also, you'd have no money," Hange made clear.

"Also that."

"You're going to the party, right Armin?" Hange turned to the blonde.

"Uh, yeah, probably," he shrugged. Mostly, he figured he had to. He was Levi's executive assistant after all. He couldn't exactly miss the party being thrown in honor of him.

"What about you Eren?" And attention was abruptly turned to him. "Are you going?"

"Ah…" He felt excessively awkward then. "I don't… get invitations to stuff like that." Because he was a receptionist at the front counter, not someone of significance. Why in the world would he be considered important enough to attend a formal party welcoming the vice president? He was honestly more offended that Hange would think he could be than the fact that he hadn't received an invitation.

"You have to come," Levi said then, brushing onwards. "If I have to suffer through it, then I want as many people as possible to do so as well."

"Wow, thanks," Eren replied shortly.

"It's perfectly appropriate for you to attend," President Smith tried to keep things civil.

"Yeah, you're like Levi's second assistant at this point," Hange shrugged, Eren thinking to himself that "yeah, sure, only he didn't get a raise." "Why can't I get a second assistant?" She looked to Smith. "I want a second assistant."

Levi replied in his coldly snarky manner then, another immature argument breaking out between the two. Eren listened well enough, the fact that he was now expected to attend a formal company party reminding him that he didn't own a suit.

Well, he knew what he spending his paycheck on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know this story is getting updated pretty fast, but please try to leave comments. Kudos are awesome, but feedback is so much more encouraging ^-^ Thanks!


	7. Well Ballz, That Sucks

"It can't be healthy Levi," Petra was saying to him as the two sat alone at a table off to the side of the room. Beyond, shrouded in crystal glasses and chandelier lighting, the party "in Levi's honor" was just beginning. Thus far he'd done a good job of avoiding the people he didn't want to see, which was mostly everybody, but he knew it couldn't last forever. At least his friends had come – that was a bonus.

Maybe.

"You think I don't know that?" he asked coldly. "I can't help it."

"That's just an excuse," she scolded. "What's the point Levi?" she sighed. "It's not like you're going to get anything out of a 'relationship' with a stripper. The smartest thing to do would be to stop going."

"That would be the smartest thing to do," he agreed.

"You're not going to stop, are you?" Petra asked, not at all enthused with how he was reacting to their discussion. "What are you getting out of it Levi? It's not helpful to you. And I worry…" She frowned, Levi taking in her downed expression with little a change in his own. "Levi, you haven't even dated anyone since you and Ian broke up."

"That shouldn't be concerning," he shrugged. "I was never much into the dating scene anyway." Not that she knew that. When he'd met her, he'd been together with Ian already. Besides, he wasn't exactly the type that "dated." Not in the typical sense. Usually he was either serious or not – he didn't waver at that in-between stage.

"I just… You can sometimes have an obsessive personality Levi," she made sure to keep her voice down. "It's not healthy to be pining over something you'll never actually have."

"I'm not pining," he snapped defensively. "I didn't know that thinking of anything other than a 'committed relationship' was wrong. I was with Ian for a long time, why shouldn't go watch strippers if I want to?" It was a good thing no one was near their table.

"I don't have a problem with that Levi, as you are very well aware," she replied rather harshly. "You know what you're doing goes past that though. You're so obsessed with that dancer that you can't even consider being attracted to anyone else. That's why it needs to stop." He was beginning to regret having divulged to her anything.

"Do you think I'm missing out on something?" he asked dryly. "Because, last I looked, no one had caught my interest in the last two years."

"Yeah, and as soon as someone comes along who does, you're stuck on some stripper!" Her voice was hissing.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me." He eyes darted across the room to the door where, alongside Armin, Eren finally entered. He was dressed in a simple black suit with a black button-up shirt – no tie. Effortless. Because Eren made everything he wore look effortless. "I saw the way you were looking at Eren at my barbeque. If it weren't for your 'club exploits,' you'd have asked him out already. Like I told you to do _in the first place_."

"He's not my type," Levi denied, pulling his eyes from Eren.

"Don't lie to me Levi Ackerman," she said firmly. "He's  _exactly_  your type. Innocent pretty-boy without a bad bone in his body." Because he'd thought Ian had been like that too at one point, until the cheating. "And he likes you,  _I_  know that and  _you_  know that."

"How do  _you_  know that?" he asked chillily.

"Levi, I may have only met Eren once before now, but I could tell as soon as he walked into my yard and his eyes went right to you. Don't you get it? Your obsession with that stripper is getting in the way." She crossed her arms over her chest huffily then. "You're missing an opportunity."

"We have different definitions of opportunity," he murmured, making sure to be quiet as a few of his coworkers made there way over to him.

Across the room, Eren had spotted Levi, but didn't dare approach him. He'd likely be talking to important business people all night and Eren certainly didn't fit that description. He'd planned to stay close to Armin, but soon found that was likely to be impossible as well. As Levi's executive assistant, not only was he required to mingle, but strike up his own connections. Ten minutes into the party, Eren was alone (at no fault of Armin's) and standing to the side with a glass of champagne in his hand wondering what to do.

The party was taking place at an art gallery, so Eren eventually decided to leave the general festivities behind and go exploring. Heading along the side, he was soon able to locate another room that began leading him through the plethora of displays and pieces. A few others had done the same as him, and as he continued to move further into the gallery, the noise of the party diminished.

The pieces were distracting enough he supposed. He'd never had much appreciation for art, at least not in the typical sense. Most of the time he didn't know what he was looking at, but it was better than standing pointlessly at the main room staring at people walking around in identical black toned clothing.

He really wished he hadn't come, to be honest, but he hadn't dared offend his upper management by getting a special invitation and then not showing up. However, it now occurred to him that none of them would have even notice if he'd come or not, and that he'd have made better use of the night by going to work instead of calling in.

He also wouldn't have had to buy a stupid suit.

Sighing to himself, he walked through the door into the next room, surprising himself when he recognized the woman sitting on a bench eating potato chips out of the bag. Her bright red hair was pulled into pigtails again, her focus not at all on the art as she chomped away.

Her name had been Isabel, if he remembered correctly. And she'd been one of Levi's friends from the barbeque.

Should he talk to her? Or just pretend he didn't know her? It was one of those weird acquaintances where he didn't know if it was socially acceptable to remember her or not.

As he stood there pondering however, she seemed to sense his arrival and looked up. And like any extreme extrovert, she smiled, remembering his name right away as she called to him.

"Hi," he replied well enough as he approached her. After all, though he could be uncertain of how to approach some people (Levi), he was more than social once that initial stage had been passed.

"Look at you all dressed up," she admired. "You look so much older." He couldn't tell whether that was a compliment or not.

"You look nice yourself," he replied even though her royal blue bubble dress was perhaps the most eccentric he'd seen since he'd entered the building. Not that typical black wear was difficult to outshine.

"Aw thanks," she was still grinning. Abruptly, she scooted over on the bench, wordlessly inviting Eren to sit down. He did, politely refusing when she offered him some of the potato chips out of her bag.

"These corporate parties sure are boring," she observed a second later. "I don't know how Levi puts up with it. I'd go crazy if I had to stand out there talking to suits all night." Hence why she was alone eating chips.

"What do you do?" Eren asked more out of obligation than anything.

"Me? Oh, nothing special," she shook her head. "I'm a manager at the supermarket downtown. I'm not a college grad like all you guys here." She smiled again, quite unfazed by the comparison.

"I've never been to college either," Eren admitted. "I've been helping Levi clean out his office. That's the only reason I was invited." He shrugged, feeling just about the same as she did on the subject.

"I'd bet having Levi for a boss is pretty great," she observed, Eren somewhat surprised that she'd think so. Not that Levi was a bad boss, but he didn't exactly glow with kind radiance or anything. "Petra and Oluo and all them seemed to think so. But Levi's always been a pretty cool dude."

Eren would never have thought to refer to Levi as a "dude."

"You've known him a long time, right?" he asked.

"Since we were kids," she nodded. "We went to the same catholic school, Levi, Farlan, and me. Well, sometimes," she laughed. "We weren't actually there a good chunk of the time." She continued chuckling to herself, apparently thinking of fond memories from the past.

"Levi always struck me as the type that would be serious about school."

"Pffft," Isabel shook her head. "You're joking, right?" Her eyes met his. "Levi hated school. Most of the time we ended up on the Detroit streets doing things no teenager should be doing." She didn't miss Eren's curious look. "Well, Farlan and me got a little too deep into drugs sometimes," she was brutally honest apparently, "but Levi was always a little more over his head than we were. I think it was his way of rebelling against his parents."

"His dad is a pastor, right?"

"Sure is!" she chomped down another chip. "Had a real big problem with his skipping school and all that, which only made Levi do it more. Wanted him to join the church or something – had quite a shock when Levi left the church altogether. Man, what they'd think if they knew everything." Her head was shaking.

"Everything?"  _Eren_  wanted to know everything.

"Sure," she shrugged. "They kicked Levi out when he was sixteen, and that was when he started doing  _really_  bad stuff." She frowned, abruptly serious. "Farlan and me grew up as orphans, so we didn't really have anyone to look after us, but even so, Levi wouldn't let us know all the details of what he was doing. Even when we were living together."

Eren remained silent, not wanting her to realize that she shouldn't be telling him these things. Part of him felt a little guilty, like he was going behind Levi's back, but the more curious part was currently stronger.

"By the time all of us had dropped out of school, we were pretty much homeless. And living on the streets of Detroit wasn't a place to be homeless." Her expression fell shortly to sadness. "Levi never let it stay that way long though. I don't like to think what he had to do sometimes – to make sure we had food and a roof over our heads. I don't even know why he insisted on dragging Farlan and me around with him." She paused, thoughtful. "We became criminals, Levi most of all."

Eren had a hard time believing it, to be honest. Sure, he'd considered that Levi's past had been harder than some, but not to this degree. What had he done? How many laws had he broken? And how had he ended up with the high paying lifestyle he had now?

"But then we met Erwin!" Isabel said happily, Eren suffering momentary whiplash in response to her abrupt mood change. "Granted, it wasn't all that great at first. Erwin had gone to our school, the catholic one, and is the son of one of those really rich, political families. Him and Levi hadn't ever really gotten along. Anyway, he went to college near where we were staying at first. And college kids, well, you know how they can be…" She wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"Uh… no?" Eren wasn't exactly sure what she was getting at.

"She's saying," a taller man with a soft face and light hair came in through the doorway, drawing their attention, "that college students needed access to things the law wouldn't give, thus we were the ones working for them."

"Farlan!" Isabel said happily. Eren recognized this man as well, though not as clearly. "We were talking about Levi," she continued quite ignorantly.

"So I heard," Farlan cast her a somewhat disapproving look, but she didn't seem to register it. "You're Eren, right?" He nodded. "You work for Levi?"

"Not directly, but yes," Eren affirmed, somewhat disappointed that they'd been interrupted. This Farlan didn't seem like the type to give information out as easily as Isabel, and would likely police what she said from then on. Besides, unless Farlan continued the subject, Eren couldn't very well ask. He didn't want to look like a snoop.

"Petra talks about you," Farlan stated then. "Said you're neighbors?"

"Yeah, she comes over sometimes. Mostly to see my sister, Mikasa." Since announcing her pregnancy, Mikasa and Petra had become even more social with one another. Which was odd for Mikasa. But, Eren supposed, seeing as Petra had only recently had a baby, they would get along on that subject. And Mikasa, as well as Jean, would likely need help. Eren didn't see her very often (Petra), he wasn't home much (other than weekends), but they ran into one another from time to time.

"Hmm," Farlan seemed to be staring at him as though sizing him, Eren unsure what to make of the look and instead twitching his eyes to the floor.

"I was just about to tell him about Erwin, and Ian, and-"

"I was listening," Farlan interrupted, Isabel frowning at the shortness in his voice. "Do you really think that's any of his business?"

"Petra was saying how she thought that Levi should-"

"Stop talking," Farlan issued, Eren not understanding their conversation. Isabel  _had_  closed her mouth, but looked quite rebellious about it. As if she might start speaking again without warning.

"I just thought he ought to know a little more about him," she snottily started then. "What's so wrong with that?"

"The fact that it's none of your business. Between you and Petra, you cook up so many terrible ideas. Just leave the kid alone." Eren tried not to be offended by that comment. "He's better off not getting involved."

"Involved in what?" Eren asked.

"Involved with Levi," Isabel said, grinning again. Eren, however, had gone pale, his heart freezing at what such words seemed to insinuate.

"Why would I get involved with Levi?" he asked a little too hastily. "I mean, I hardly know him. Does he even like men? I don't know anything about him." He had the feeling he'd probably said too much and too little all at the same time. The look on Farlan's face as well, a mix of amusement and skepticism, seemed to verify this. Isabel hadn't noticed.

"Petra thinks you two would be cute together," Isabel explained and Farlan sighed. Eren blushed. "But… Levi's interested in someone else."

"W-what?" Eren couldn't help the way he questioned. "Who?"

"Oh some guy he met in a club," she waved off the whole scenario rather flippantly. "I think anyway. From what Petra said, he's pretty obsessed with the guy, whoever he is." She didn't notice the way Eren had paled once more, though Farlan did. He was staring at Isabel accusingly now, as if she'd said quite too much.

"Will you shut your stupid mouth already?" he asked rather sharply. "You're not helping the situation any." If they continued arguing on past that however, Eren wasn't listening.

Now he understood why Levi was at the club all those nights. He was going to see someone. But who was it? Eren had never seen him with anyone, but he wasn't out on the stage for that long, relatively speaking. Was it someone who worked at the club? Or someone who he'd simply met there?

No matter the case, Eren felt his heart sinking. Sinking and sinking and sinking. That was all it seemed to do lately. But it was beginning to become painful. No wonder Levi had never shown any interest in him. He liked someone else. "Obsessed" over someone else. Eren had never stood a chance. He shouldn't have even entertained the thought that he did. Granted, he'd always told himself that Levi wasn't interested, but that hadn't stopped the hope. This seemed to squash that however, his throat becoming dry the longer he thought about it.

Why had he let it get this far? Why had he allowed himself to feel this way?

Standing, he ignored both Isabel and Farlan, instead going to the window. Looking at his own reflection in the dark surface, he wondered why he was even there at all. Of course he'd come for Levi. Because he'd been invited and it was Levi's party. Because Levi was there. Even though he'd known he'd hardly see him, hardly talk to him. He'd put himself through the torture. The torture and hoping and trying and attempting to be noticed. But any attention Levi had given him had lacked those feelings Eren wanted. None of it had been worth it, the bitter thing that he'd told himself in the very beginning that it wouldn't be. He should have listened. He should have kept his distance.

Now it was too late. And it strangled his whole chest in a way he wished he was numb to.

"Eren!" Farlan's voice rang loudly in his ear, but that hadn't been what had jolted him from his thoughts. No, it was the hand pulling harshly on his arm, tugging him away from the window and back into the center of the room.

Farlan and Isabel weren't paying attention to him however. Their eyes were trained on one of the broad doorways interspersed in the walls of the gallery. The one that, seconds before, Eren had been standing to the side of – in line of sight.

"What is he doing here?" Isabel whispered seriously, both Farlan and her looking discreetly through the doorway.

"I don't know," Farlan murmured back, the two of them obviously trying not to be noticed by the tall man in a suit and bowler hat standing in the adjacent gallery. "We need to tell Levi."

"But why is he here?" Isabel asked again, this time sounding somewhat helpless.

"I don't know!" Farlan hissed. "Just shut up and see if there's another way around back to the main room." Quite like the criminals Isabel had claimed they'd once been, the two headed across the gallery and into another, Eren trailing behind uncertainly and wondering what was so important about the man they'd seen. However, quite unexpectedly, as they turned another corner, he was there, leering down at them.

Eren and Isabel both yelped in surprise, Farlan flinching.

"Hello there," he said, his eyes shadowed beneath his hat. "Long time no see." The way he spoke told Eren that he'd known they were there the whole time.

"Hello Kenny," Farlan replied, his voice carrying an extra layer of steel.

"Wow," Isabel laughed awkwardly. "What a coincidence… meeting you here."

"Not really," Kenny replied, ever smirking. "I heard about this little party for Levi and, since I was in town, decided I'd drop by." He smirked a little wider. "And, as everyone knows, where he is, you two are never far behind." The way he said it was insulting, Eren sensing the way Farlan bristled. Kenny, however, had turned his attention to Eren. "Who's this?"

"This is-"

"Paul," Farlan, lying, cut Isabel off. "His parents work with Levi." Kenny nodded, Eren's body growing colder as he wondered into the lies. He didn't correct them however, the fact that his identity was, for some reason, being shielded telling him that this Kenny wasn't someone he should relax around.

"Really," Kenny was still looking at him. "Are your parents here now?"

"…Yes…" Eren decided was safest to respond, his many days spent around bad streets having taught him not to make eye contact with anyone else around if he didn't want to give himself away. Thus, he stared straight back at Kenny.

"What are you doing wandering around with these two?"

"We caught him," Farlan interjected. "He was messing with some of the sculptures. You know, immature teenage stuff." He was a teenager now? Eren didn't quite understand the reasoning behind the elaborate background story, but didn't dare say anything on the subject. "We don't want any difficulties for Levi tonight." The last was an obvious threat.

"Certainly not," Kenny replied civilly. "In fact, I was just about to go looking for the guest of honor. Shall we go together?" – despite the fact that they'd said nothing about going to find Levi. The invitation was something that couldn't be refused however, the two other than Eren offering the appropriately encouraging responses while he followed behind. He wondered, as they re-entered the main room, whether he should attempt an escape. To get away before someone could call him out on his blown cover. Kenny was keeping an eye on him however, that much was clear based on the way he looked over his shoulder, and Eren didn't want to pull any undo attention his way. Therefore, he remained silent, hoping he'd be able to fade into the background.

Levi was up at the head of the room, speaking with some people Eren didn't recognize. He spotted their group as they approached however, his eyes visibly narrowing as he caught sight of Kenny. Eren thought perhaps his movements had stiffened, but as he excused himself from those around him and headed their way, it was hard to tell.

"Kenny," he greeted as they met. "I wasn't expecting to meet you here." And his voice wasn't welcoming. It wasn't dismissive either of course. It was just… Levi. Straight. Unadorned.

"Well, I was in town on… business, and I knew about your recent hiring. So, naturally, I had to congratulate you." He then had the audacity to place a hand on Levi's shoulder, Eren getting so offended by the gesture that he couldn't imagine Levi wasn't. His boss did an excellent job of holding back however, whatever it was that he was feeling.

"I appreciate the sentiment," Levi countered, then offering nothing else. Normally, he should have followed up with some kind of overstuffed conversation starter, but he simply stared. Waiting.

"I've met up with Isabel and Farlan here as well," and Kenny continued on without missing a beat. "It's so good to see you all together still. What an enduring friendship." A slight pause. "It's a pity  _we_ didn't remain as close."

"Yes, you could say that." Levi was making no show of hiding the fact that he didn't approve of Kenny. His words weren't antagonistic, but they weren't encouraging either.

"I've also had the pleasure of meeting another who's come to celebrate," he gestured back to Eren then.

Levi looked at him, not to Farlan or Isabel, and then back to Kenny. "You before me then. I've never met him before in my life."

Eren almost balked. Almost. Obviously, Levi did know him, and he wasn't immature enough to get offended. However, it was still a peculiar lie to tell. As if they were, for some reason, trying to protect Eren's identity from this man. He just… couldn't fathom why. Even if he was a dangerous man, what threat was he to Eren?

"Ah, I see," Kenny nodded.

"I've only just started working here, after all," Levi replied, Eren thankful that none of their closer acquaintances were nearby to overhear and interject.

"Obviously," there was a smirk once again placed across Kenny's face. "Yet Farlan and Isabel seemed to know who he was." And for a moment, Eren thought they'd been caught. Levi wasn't the least bit fazed however, his eyes merely blinking.

"Did they," he shrugged. "Must be a recent introduction. Are you the son of someone I work with?" He was looking to Eren again.

"Y-yes," Eren sputtered.

"Good to meet you." He then looked again to Kenny. "If you'll excuse me," he didn't even nod as a show of apology, "I must return to the social circles. I'm an important man, after all." Another threat. Kenny didn't stop him however and, walking off, Levi was soon meeting up with another group of people.

Eren took it as his chance to escape. Abandoning Farlan and Isabel, he headed off in search of anywhere that hindered how visible he was. Once he had safely taken up residence near a large group of older men and women, he turned and watched as Kenny continued a short discussion with the other two before knocking his hat and walking away. Eren watched him all the time to the exit. It wasn't until he'd been gone at least fifteen minutes that Eren separated from the random persons. Skirting the wall, he suffered through his tense nerves and upset stomach until he'd reached the open doors lining the balcony of the building. Heading out, he was soon holding the railing, his hands tight, knuckles whitening.

It'd been a dramatic, south-winding evening. That Kenny man, and how Eren had been introduced to him, were obviously suspicious. Honestly, however, he didn't know what to think of it. He didn't distrust Levi because of it. He questioned it, but was somewhat ashamed to realize that his suspicion of the man was held completely at bay by his feelings. Feelings that, though recently shot down, still rang louder than any lie. Mikasa would disapprove, but Eren couldn't help it. After all he'd done, he had to trust Levi, even if it wasn't the wisest decision.

That, however, didn't alleviate his heartbreak. Sinking down into a crouch, he allowed the railing to hold him steady as he closed his eyes. The same thing kept running through his head. Levi, the man he'd so recently fallen over a cliff for, was interested in someone else. Did the definition of obsession translate to… love? Was he in love with this other person? The idea caused Eren's throat to dry up once again, his eyes pulling more tightly shut as he tried to ignore the prickling behind.

It was one of the things he loathed most about himself. It didn't matter what kind of stress, be it positive or negative, he was always bought to tears. Despite how he tried to reject them, they soon leaked down his cheeks, his breath hitching as he gave in. He kept quiet however, not wanting to draw attention, and silently allowed the tears to stream across his skin. They burned, weighing down his heart further. Physical evidence of the feelings he should have known better than to form in the first place.

Because he'd done this to himself.

"Eren? What are you doing?" Shooting up, he turned around to face Levi before he could stop himself. The shock gave him momentary composure. Reaching up, he hastily wiped the wet scars from his cheeks, trying not to confront the way Levi was staring at him in concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Eren managed to get out, his voice rough. "It's nothing. I was just… my stomach is upset." Yeah, right, because that lie always worked.

"What happened?" Levi didn't believe it and persisted.

"Nothing." Eren continued to try and blink away the inevitable redness that now plagued his expression.

"Eren, why do you insist on lying to me?" He sounded vaguely irritated, Eren pursing his lips and yet refusing to answer. Instead, wiping his eyes again, he glanced to the side. Away. "Does this have something to do with Kenny?"

To Eren, the question was odd, but Levi sounded oddly angry as he'd asked it. As if "Kenny" was guilty of being the cause whether he'd done anything or not.

"Whatever he said, don't listen to him," Levi comforted blindly. "He's an acquaintance of mine from a long time ago. Someone I'd rather have never seen again. He's an asshole."

"Is that why Farlan and Isabel lied about who I was?" Eren wasn't completely incapable of staying on topic.

"…No…" Levi's expression tightened. "They lied about who you were, as they should have, because you're the exact kind of person he goes out of his way to hurt."

"Why?" Eren laughed bitterly. "Because I'm naïve? And childish? And easily taken advantage of?"

"No," Levi answered easily. "You aren't any of those things. To my knowledge anyway."

"Ha!" Eren spun around, his hands once again taking hold of the railing. "How about I agree not to  _lie_  to you if you agree not to  _lie_  to me."

"What the hell is your problem Eren? Is it with Kenny? Or… do you have a problem with me?" Because, as he'd reflected previously, Eren wasn't exactly discreet when it came to expressing himself.

"I don't have any problems with you!" Eren admitted, turning back to face him and feeling quite reckless about doing so. Hurt tended to do that to him – make him more rash. "That  _is_  the problem!"

"What hell are you talking about?"

"Oh come on!" Eren scoffed. "Are you really that oblivious? I haven't exactly made it a secret." At least, not directly. He'd flirted outright, been happy to spend time with him. What else was he supposed to do? Other than, well, tell him. "Unless, of course, you just don't care."

"Do you find being cryptic to be entertaining?" Levi asked, despite knowing exactly where this was going. "Because I don't. If you're talking about what I think you are however, I don't see why you're getting so angry with me. I've done my best to make sure I didn't lead you on."

And there it was. The words had been harsh, unfeeling, and Eren wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do with them. They stung deeply enough to sever his nerves, leaving him rather confused about how to feel.

Mostly he was just empty.

"That… makes it all so much better," Eren couldn't stop the sarcasm. "Thanks."

"What did you want me to say?" Levi hissed back.

"You know what, I don't want you to say anything. I never wanted you to say anything."

"Then you shouldn't have brought it up."

"I'm sorry that I'm not emotionally stunted!" He shot back rather harshly, the blow hitting home as Levi pursed his lips. "I'll remember to hold myself back the next time I  _decide_  to have feelings for someone!"

"I didn't ask for you to feel this way," Levi hissed through gritted teeth as he took a few steps closer to Eren. "And I'm sorry that I don't feel the same. Really, I am, but it's not my fault." And even though all of that was true, Levi felt a wave a guilt slip down over him. In the back of his mind, he saw a dancer, one that drew a line of fire between him and what lay beyond – something that he couldn't see through the smoke.

"I'm aware that it's not your fault," Eren murmured, his anger finally breaking some to reveal his despair. "I wasn't blaming you. And I… didn't mean to… mess things up." Whatever it was they'd had before. Friendship? Maybe. Not even he knew. "I won't bother you again about it." Backing up, he cast Levi one last look before turning away. Pausing for only a moment when he reached the stairs, he shook his head and descended out into the darkness as quickly as he could.

Left standing, Levi watched him until he'd vanished, an abrupt feeling of loss overcoming him. Levi had a few close friends, six maybe tops that he considered such, but he'd become fond of Eren. It upset him, knowing he'd unintentionally hurt someone he thought he'd have been able to eventually consider a good friend. But he'd seen this coming, hadn't he? Eren wouldn't have been happy with that. He should have expected something like this to happen.

Yet still it bothered him…

"Where did he go?" Isabel had come out to join him, Farlan not far behind. "He looked upset…"

"What did you say to him?" Because it didn't take a genius to realize something had triggered such an upset. And when they'd brought him Kenny, they'd been the ones with him.

"Uh, well, nothing important…" Isabel sounded like she was telling the truth. But just because  _she_  thought it was so didn't mean Levi believed her.

"She opened her big mouth, naturally," Farlan verified, Levi turning to him. "She mentioned to Eren that you liked someone else, in not so graceful a way, and he didn't take it very well. Apparently Petra was right about him liking you."

"Of course she was right," Levi eyed Isabel accusingly, who shied away in shame. "You should have kept your mouth shut," he told her.

"Why?" Farlan objected. "All she did was tell the truth. It might not have been appropriate, but it wasn't as though you were hiding something… were you?" Farlan cocked a single brow.

Levi had no answer to give however. Mostly because he couldn't give a reasoning without sounding like a complete asshole. No, he hadn't intentionally led Eren on, but he hadn't distanced himself either. Part of him, though he hadn't acknowledged it, had been saving Eren back. He'd wanted to finish what he'd started at the club, whatever that was, and make Eren wait. Maybe then he'd have felt something.

He'd just wanted more time.

Time that, he'd known, had carried over to Eren as well. They'd only known each a little while, but each day Eren had grown less uptight, closer to him. And Levi had allowed it, defending it with potential friendship. But that hadn't been it. He'd wanted to get the pole dancer out of the way and still have had Eren secured in case. He still felt nothing of that kind for Eren, but he hadn't wanted to lose the chance either.

It'd been a dick thing to do, he knew, and now Isabel had fucked it up.

But, perhaps, that was what he deserved.

Petra's words echoed in his head – her reasoning behind his actions being unhealthy. It hadn't been until that moment that he'd realized just how right she'd been. Eren was hurting and he  _was_  partially to blame. Had he not been so focused on the dancer, he might have seen Eren more clearly and made a better decision about what to do. Instead, however, he'd let himself be led on, dragging Eren after in the process.

"No, I wasn't," Levi somewhat lied in response to Farlan's question. "There were better ways to have let him down however."

"Well, it's done now," Farlan shrugged. "Nothing to do about it."

And Levi had to admit that to be truth. There wasn't anything he could do about it.

Not anymore.

**oOo**

"You seemed off today," Reiner observed as Eren came in and flopped down in his chair. Nearly naked except a purple thong and his mask, he soon shed the latter and stared at himself in the mirror. His skin was whiter, tighter after crying so many hours in the last two days. And he felt lethargic, his workout routine interrupted by the fact that he hadn't been going.

He didn't reply to Reiner's comment, which was off-putting to the blonde and eventually spurred him to walk away. Instead, he silently looked past his reflection, remembering how he'd spotted Levi in the crowd, like always, and tried to look away. He'd failed, his eyes scouring the area looking for whoever it was he was there to see. Inevitably, his gaze would be drawn back, regret taking hold of him.

If he hadn't said anything, if he'd kept his mouth shut, he'd still be able to see Levi, smile at him, have coffee with him. Now all of that was impossible.

Those few moments while he danced, that was all he got.

All he'd ever get.

Ignoring how his throat tightened, he tried to focus on work, on his next act, but it wasn't as easy as it normally was.

Mostly he just wanted to be home, curled up in bed and pretending like none of it had happened.

Maybe like he'd never met Levi in the first place.

"Eren." Glancing up, he saw Ymir walking toward him, a serious look on her face. "Come up to my office. I need to speak to you." Nodding, Eren did as he'd been asked, not too worried about whatever she had to say. They got called up for personal talks all the time, usually for her to explain a new direction she wanted to take the acts. It wasn't alarming in the least.

Ymir's office was behind the stage in a small, windowless room. It was sparse, bare, but also exactly like an office she'd have. Carelessly thrown together because she obviously had more important things to worry about.

"What's up?" Eren asked as he sat down on the stool in front of her desk. Even she noticed how flat he sounded, how dead he looked, but she didn't comment. Her dancers had their ups and downs, most of the time pertaining to things that weren't any of her business. Unless it interfered with what she did, she made a point of not asking.

"I didn't actually call you back here to talk," she clarified. "Someone else wants to speak with you." An alarm immediately went off in Eren's head. One that popped his eyes wide and made him stiffen in his seat.

"Our understanding is that no one but  _you_  speaks to me," he made perfectly clear.

"I know that," she was staring at him apologetically, which was not only rare for her, but disconcerting to Eren. "He was very persistent… and persuasive." Eren knew exactly what that meant. Ymir wasn't the type to sell out her employees, but if paid enough, she could manage to break some of the rules. "Don't worry, I'll be right outside the door. All he said was that he wanted to talk to you."

Eren wasn't convinced, but supposed that at this point he had little choice.

"Fine," he agreed, already in a poor mood. Nodding, Ymir stood back up and exited, the door left open a crack behind her. Waiting in irritation and aggravation, Eren sighed, beginning to get impatient when nearly two minutes had passed by.

The door opened soon enough however, his eyes darting over to see who was being so demanding of his time.

What he saw nearly caused his heart to stop.

"Hello," was the civil greeting he received as the door was closed to give them privacy. "Paul."

"How did you know to find me here?" he asked almost immediately, those dark eyes beneath the tattered cowboy hat nearly sending him running from the room. This man wasn't safe, that was what his previous experience had told him. That was what Levi had told him.

_But what did Levi have to say on anything in his life?_

"Oh trust me, this is pure coincidence," Kenny assured as he sat down in Ymir's chair. Pulling his feet up, he laid them on the desk before crossing them. "Do your corporate parents know you work here?" He was grinning.

"I think we both know my parents don't work for ES Research," he said blandly, his arms crossing over his bare chest. Kenny chuckled in response to this, Eren not nearly as amused with the whole thing.

"No, I suppose not," Kenny replied. "I'm guessing your name isn't Paul either?"

"You can call me Rogue," Eren replied, thankful that Ymir had kept his identity a secret at least. How long that would last he didn't know. A face revealed could make him very vulnerable. "Now tell me, what do you want?"

"I have a business proposition for you," Kenny explained, quite satisfied to remain laxly propped up in the chair. "I came a long way to see you, based solely on rumors. However," he flicked his dark gaze upwards, "I only work with the best. And you, Eren, are the best."

So he did know his name.

"The best at what?"

"At what you do," Kenny grinned again. "I run a high standard of business, you see. I deal with a lot of high-end clients, people with secrets to keep and money to spend. I have to deliver a high quality product. Which is why I go to the lengths I do to get what is required." Finally he pulled his legs off the desk. Leaning forward, he twined his hands together atop it, his expression becoming serious. "That's where you come in. You have the skills I need. And if you come work for me, I'll get you figures like you've never made anywhere else."

"Like what?" Eren was obviously suspicious, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, but his interest was also piqued. Looking around on the desk, Kenny located a pen and a piece of paper. Writing down a few short notes, he then folded it and slid it across the desk. Pursing his lips, Eren reached out to retrieve the sheet, his eyes scanning the numbers presented to him as he pulled it open.

He couldn't help the way his eyes bugged. Flicking his gaze back up to Kenny, he was unable to stop the next question from popping out of his mouth. "What would I be doing in order to earn  _this_  kind of money?" Because it was a generous amount.  _Very_  generous.

"Like I was saying, I run a certain kind of business," he repeated. "You're the kind of high standard service my clients would expect, with, of course, a little more than a mere stripping thrown in."

"You want me to become a prostitute," Eren easily deduced. "You're a pimp."

"Those words carry awfully… negative connotations," Kenny smiled shortly again. "I run an escort service. One specifically aimed at wealthy clients around the world. You wouldn't be standing out in the street like a common whore," Eren tightened his lips. "Rather, I would organize your client list and open your schedule Friday through Sunday. You'd go where I tell you and perform as expected. However, you would have regular customers that would pay you generously. Some even more generously than what I've already written down – if you're successful enough. All I ask is that I get my share of what you earn, as your manager. The rest of the week would be yours to do with what you please. Most of my boys have lived the lives of luxury, their whole worlds opened up by this opportunity."

"By selling their bodies…"

"Is that really such a bad thing?" he asked lightly. "In a way, it's what you already do. Only instead of allowing strangers a view from afar, you'll let only a select few up close and personal. To me, that sounds almost better. At least you'll be given more privacy. And you'll have four-day weekends where you don't have to work. Not very many jobs like that."

"I don't mind showing off my body," Eren replied. "But I've always had a strict rule on no physical contact." He said it almost as a warning, as if Kenny would have to somehow sweeten the deal to even get him to consider it.

"Yes, well, you can't show your body off forever," Kenny leaned back in the chair. "Young beauty isn't eternal after all. Tell me Eren, what kind of education do you have?"

This got Eren's defenses to rise. "I have a GED," he snapped.

"No you don't," Kenny smirked again. "I did my research on you. You took it, once, but you didn't pass." Redness flushed into Eren's cheeks. It was a secret that he'd always kept to himself. He'd even lied to Armin and Mikasa about it. He hadn't been able to tell them – to admit that he'd been too… stupid to measure up. It was why he wasn't applying for college. He wasn't smart enough, or qualified enough, to go.

"What chance do you really stand in this world without an education?"

"Are you trying to blackmail me?" Eren murmured.

"No," Kenny shook his head innocently. "I'm merely pointing out facts. Look at it this way Eren. You get me what I want, and I'll get you what you want. You want an education? This can pay for it." He pointed to the piece of paper. "You need private tutors to get you caught up, we can hire them. But only if you work with me."

For a moment, Eren was silent. He wanted to go to school, really, but after he'd failed to get his GED, it'd all seemed so impossible. Before he'd known it, the years had slipped by and he'd forgotten what little he'd known. Without a GED, he couldn't go to collage. But in order to get a GED, he needed help. Help he couldn't afford. Even without his mother's bills, tutors were expensive – especially for what he was going to need.

One year of  _this_  would pay for college, with some left over. Let alone the help he'd need.

But… he'd never wanted to… sell his body in this way…

"I've had plenty of boys who did it," Kenny verified. "They work for me while they're in school and before you know it, they're well on their way to a future beyond anything they'd ever thought themselves capable of. But people like us, Eren, we have to climb our way to the top. It's never easy." He paused to let his words sink in before continuing. "You know one of my success stories, I think."

Eyebrows furrowed, Eren waited silently for a response.

"He pretended not to know you, but I could tell he did," Kenny was smiling once more. "Levi Ackerman."

"Levi… That's how he knows you?" Eren whispered. "He…"

"He did it, some ten years ago. That was when I was first getting started. Kenny Ackerman, you see, that's who I am. All my boys take my name, I get them into school, and soon enough they're well on their way. Levi was always… one of my more popular boys. He had a rugged sharpness about him that appealed to a lot of the tight-whipped political men, but his size made them enjoy dominating him. Always a spitfire, that one."

"Levi was a prostitute…?" Eren still couldn't imagine it.

"And it paid his way through college when his parents kicked him out," Kenny continued. "Wouldn't think it, but look at him now. And he's not the only one to come out so well."

The sheet of paper was tightened in Eren's hand, the fact that he was actually considering the offer scaring him some. But if he did take this… job, then he could finally move up in the world. He wouldn't have to ask Mikasa or Armin for help. He wouldn't have to work multiple dead-end jobs.

He could do something with his life.

"I'm going to give you a day to think it over," Kenny said then, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a business card. Sliding it across the desk, he nodded once as Eren hesitantly picked it up. There was only a number on it, and the initials K.A. "Call me with your answer this time tomorrow and, if you say yes, we'll begin your training as soon as possible."

"Training?" Eren questioned.

"Well yes," Kenny nodded. "You're an attractive package Eren, I'll give you that, but you have to have all the skills required as well. I'd teach you those."

" _You_  would?" Eren asked skeptically.

"I teach all my boys," Kenny said, quite as though it was the most normal thing in the world. "Even Levi. I have to be able to guarantee my product after all."

Eyes falling away, Eren didn't comment, instead allowing the idea to slowly seep into his brain and begin chewing away at it. It was disconcerting – that it seemed like it might not be so bad. He knew he shouldn't do it, but… what other options did he really have? At least, doing it this way, he was guaranteed good money. He'd considered that, someday, he might have to resort to such… horrible things, or work another job entirely. But jobs were even more limited without his GED. The only reason he'd gotten the one at ES Research was because of Armin. And because they hadn't bothered to check his fake documentation. But if he did this… if he went to school…

Certainly, overall, that was the smarter thing to do. Levi had done it… hadn't he?

"You consider it and call me tomorrow," Kenny repeated as he stood. "And remember Eren," he smiled again, "I don't like to be kept waiting." Tipping his hat, he then headed back out the way he'd come, Eren left cold and oddly lonely as he ran through everything he'd just learned.

Kenny, by comparison, walked from the club quite confident in what he'd accomplished. He didn't notice the silver eyes the followed his form, having spotted him from a back table as soon as he'd walk in some two hours before.

Levi knew exactly why Kenny was there. He knew how the man worked, and realized as soon as he'd walked into the club who he'd be going after. The Rogue Mask was the only one there worth anything, which meant Kenny would automatically be after him. And by the way he walked from the club, smug as ever, his meeting had gone well.

Sitting back in his seat, Levi found the idea of it sat rather terribly with his stomach. All his advances to somehow get to the Rogue Mask had been rejected, leading him to believe the man had standards. It was, honestly, part of what had attracted him. The idea that he was hard to get, had to be earned somehow. But if Kenny had gotten to him, it proved only that there was a right price for everyone.

It brought back memories that Levi would rather not remember, his mood sinking as he stared up at the stage. Of course, he'd known he'd been kidding himself in thinking that a stripper would somehow be more than what he appeared. If he went with Kenny, then he was no better than Levi had been, and that wasn't a compliment.

It was strange, but Levi's attraction lessened some then.

Perhaps it was all just too close to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, they're both so ridiculous, lol. Please leave reviews. Kudos are great, really, but hearing what you think of the story is so much more inspiring ^-^ Thanks, guys!


	8. Mirror Mirror on the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG chapter, lol.

"What's up?" Armin could see the thoughtful anxiety painted across Eren's face as he spoke. His fingers were fidgeting together from his position sitting on his bed, his green eyes trained on the carpeted floor as the door clicked closed. Brows furrowed, Armin placed himself on the mattress beside him, uncertain what to say. It was around six-thirty in the morning, Armin still puzzled over the fact that Eren had been skipping his workouts the last few days. He wasn't daft however—he knew that Eren and Levi worked out at the same time. Which meant that something, probably not good, had happened between them. Eren's depression lately also seemed to point in that direction. He was afraid to ask, however, fearing that the wound, whatever it was, might be too fresh still.

"I need to talk to you about something." Eren stated the obvious. And Armin was all-ears, as intent as always when one of his friends needed to confide in him. He assumed that the discussion would lead into whatever had happened between Eren and Levi, and was surprised when it didn't. "I need to talk to you about a… job I was offered."

"Really?" Armin couldn't hide his surprise. "What kind of job?"

"It's a… dancing job," Eren explained, Armin's expression darkening. The only way someone could have offered him a dancing job was if they'd seen him at the club, which likely meant it was fishy. Then again, Eren  _was_  talking to him about it. "It's a lot better than what I'm doing now. Pays a lot better."

"Well… take it then?" Armin wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to say. However, it was clear he wasn't getting the whole story when Eren's green eyes twitched up to catch his own gaze, confusion swimming there.

"Well, there's more to it…" Eren wasn't about to tell Armin the whole truth. He couldn't do that. But, some, maybe… "It's not in Las Vegas…"

"Oh…" Armin blinked, supposing then that he understood Eren's confusion. "Well… where is it?"

Eren couldn't tell him that truth either. A job that took him all over the world would be suspicious. He was going to have to lie. He hated lying to his family.

"It's… in New York."

"New York?!" Armin baulked. "Really?"

"Yes…" Eren looked away, having already come up with the lie he was going to tell. "I was scouted for a high class club out there. A kind of tourist attraction. The money is a lot better and I think that… that it could open up a lot of opportunities. I mean, Julliard is there, for one," which was the school he'd always wanted to go to, "and I was thinking that… that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea."

"New York City…" Armin murmured, Eren fully aware of how he was feeling. They'd been friends since they were children, them and Mikasa. They'd never been apart, really. Not like this. They'd grown up as a family. But it wasn't at all logical to propose that they come with Eren (which he couldn't actually allow). Mikasa and Jean's jobs were in Vegas, as was Armin's rather important position. Eren was the only one without actual roots being planted.

"Do you think I should take it?" Eren asked quietly.

"I don't know, Eren." Armin shrugged somewhat hesitantly. "I mean, New York is… the perfect place for someone like you, really…" A truth that was, actually, irrelevant. "And if it makes good money…"

Eren didn't say anything, his eyes falling again to the carpet. He looked horrid uncomfortable, his arms hugged around his middle. Armin had seen him like this plenty of times before, generally when he was distressed. Had this been the source of his behavior recently?

"I think that…" Eren visibly gulped. "I think I have to take it." The way he said as much made it seem to Armin as though he thought he didn't have a choice.

"Well, if you don't want to, then don't," he tried to reason. "You're doing just fine now, aren't you?" Armin hadn't noticed him struggling with money, or pinching pennies, as he'd sometimes done. If anything, he'd been doing better than usual.

"I don't want to be doing this for the rest of my life," he admitted quietly, but there was something off about his tone. As if he were trying to convince himself. As if he were trying to talk himself down off a cliff or something. If anything, Armin would have thought he'd be excited about such an opportunity. Eren had always been the reckless, go-getter of the three of them. Moving away wouldn't be something he'd be afraid to do.

"Then… take the job…" Was that the right advice to give? Armin couldn't tell. He didn't understand what Eren wanted to hear.

"You really think I should?"

"If… you think you should, then I support you," Armin replied. "And so will Mikasa." Though she'd likely fret over him every day until she got used to it.

"Yeah… you're right," Eren agreed finally, his voice rather straight and emotionless. "A job like this could really help me. Could really get me places. I'd be… ridiculous not to take it." Yet his words marched. They were pulled from concrete, as if Eren had to force himself to say them. It was all very strange. "I should go give my answer."

"Now? Today?" Armin hadn't expected the change to happen that quickly.

"Yes." Eren nodded as he stood, the paleness of his expression not getting by Armin. "I'm supposed to start right away. As soon as possible." He headed past the bed to the door, not looking back as he pulled it open. "Thanks Armin." He left, his roommate abandoned in a state of confusion. It had been one of the oddest conversations he'd ever had with Eren. Blinking, he was able to trail him out the door, considering that perhaps he should question more thoroughly. As Armin reached the bottom of the stairs, however, Eren was already at the door slipping on his shoes. He left without even saying goodbye, Armin left standing, staring after as the front door closed.

He couldn't ignore the feeling that… that he'd never see Eren again.

In fact, it plagued him all throughout the morning, even when he got into work. Levi was having the carpet pulled up later that afternoon, which meant the last of what was in his office would have to be moved. It was only the desk, but Armin would have appreciated Eren's help.

He hadn't shown up for work, though. In fact, he hadn't even called in, or so Armin had learned. He'd tried calling his cell phone, but it'd gone straight to voicemail—meaning that Eren had it turned off.

It was all rather disconcerting, Armin beginning to panic a little as lunch came around. He was supposed to be going in to move the desk, his whole body jittery as he knocked on Levi's door in order to enter. He was told to come in, his mind jumping around like a bouncy ball as he approached his boss's desk.

"I'm going to head out for lunch," Levi started to explain in his typical cold fashion, not even bothering to look up. "I won't be back to the office since you said the floor people would be coming today. I expect that, tomorrow, hardwood will be what is laid out in this room." He continued writing whatever it was he'd been working on.

"Yes, that was what they said," Armin verified. It was then, as his concern began to spin out of control, that he decided to do something. It was too soon to get the police involved and Armin had no one else to go to. He didn't know what to do. He had to tell someone. "Sir!" he blurted out suddenly, Levi finally glancing up at him.

"What?"

"I…" What was he supposed to say? "I think there's something wrong."

"With what?" Levi sat back. "With the floor people?"

"No." Armin shook his head. "This morning, before I came to work, Eren… Eren called me into his room to talk." Levi's gaze narrowed. "He was… talking about this new job he'd been offered, but he was really weird about it. And he didn't come in to work today, and his phone has been off all morning."

"Armin… what do you want me to do?" Levi asked seriously.

"I don't know," he shook his head. "I just… I think Eren might be in trouble."

"Why would you think that?" Levi was much more intent now, leaning forward in his seat as he twined his fingers together on the desk.

"Well, he said he was offered a job dancing," it was soon spilling out of Armin, everything he'd been contemplating that morning, "which I thought was good originally. But he didn't seem too excited about it. And then I got to thinking. The only way he'd have been offered a dancing job was if someone had seen him dancing, and the night job he has where he does that isn't exactly…" He implied the meaning, Levi's brows furrowing. "He works in a club. In fact he… he told me that… that he'd seen you there."

"What?" Levi actually, for once, sounded surprised.

"He works at that… that strip club…" Armin blushed, his eyes falling to the side. "The guy stripper club…"

"Yes, I get that," Levi snapped. "I've never seen him there." Because, apparently, Armin was fully aware that he frequented the place. He'd have to remember to  _thank_  Eren in the future for divulging such information.

"Well, you wouldn't," Armin explained. "He keeps his identity hidden from everyone." Levi's eyes visibly widened, as if the pieces were falling into place. "He goes by a stage name, the… Rogue Mask I think it is."

Levi's entire body stiffened, the words seeming to halt his brain mid-thought. It took him several seconds, and several blinks, to pull himself back together. The shock was weighing in the back of his mind, digesting this revelation, but the more logical, controlled section that he managed to latch onto was pulling him along with the current situation, as it always did.

"Eren is the Rogue Mask?" The words sounded ridiculous even as he said them. "And he was offered a job? A dancing job? By who? Where?"

"I don't know by who." Armin shook his head. "He didn't say. He said it was in New York City and that it'd… open up a lot of opportunities for him. He really didn't seem excited about it at all though, and-"

"Shut up, Armin," Levi commanded then, his hand reaching for his phone. Surprised, but obedient, Armin did as told, able to see the gears working behind Levi's eyes even if he didn't know what he was thinking.

Levi, however, knew exactly what was going on. He'd been at the club the night before, had deduced what was happening, and ultimately decided that it wasn't any of his business. Well, now it was, and as he held his phone up to his ear, he felt his heart surge in his chest, concern for Eren's current condition finally finding him.

"Farlan," he said into the phone as soon as the other line was picked up. "I need you to get ahold of Isabel and call every hotel in the downtown area. We need to find Kenny." Because, despite how they'd lied, he'd gotten to him. Levi had failed to protect him. "He has Eren."

The conversation ended shortly after that, Farlan, though not knowing the details of what Kenny did, able to understand exactly what needed to be done. Levi knew he could count on them. He hadn't, however, considered the effect his words would have on the young man otherwise occupying the room. Catching Armin's wide blue eyes, he realized he should probably say something to him.

"Don't worry, I'll find Eren," he assured as he went to look up as many hotels in the area as he could, his laptop pulled open. "What I want you to do is go back out to your desk and keep working." Which was exactly what Armin  _didn't_  want to do. He went to say as much, but Levi cut him off. "You have a job to do, Armin. So stay here and do it, and let me do mine." His tone was dark, serious, and Armin couldn't bring himself to object. Mostly because the certainty Levi exuded was extremely convincing. After all, if anyone could find Eren, it certainly wasn't going to be Armin. Levi, however, well, he was rich, and powerful, and seemed capable of commanding any situation. Certainly he'd find Eren.

Certainly he'd fix this.

"Y-yes, Sir." He nodded before hesitantly backing up and leaving the office. Levi, on the other hand, was already onto his next phone call. He had a list of all the nearest luxury hotels, the kinds of places where Kenny would stay. Leaving his cell open for calls, he took to his work phone to dial out, his actions swift and decisive as he searched. He knew he was running out of time, that haste was everything. It was for this reason that, though he knew the news about Eren's identity was shocking to him, he compartmentalized it and saved it for later. All he knew at that moment was one thing. Eren was in danger and he was the only one that could do something about it. Everything else was secondary to that one fact and could wait.

Thus, he kept dialing, his determination only growing every time his questions were refused the answers he wanted.

Call after call was made, until, finally, his cell phone ignited and began to buzz. Hanging up in the middle of his current call, he picked up his cell, knowing for certain that Farlan would only call him if he'd found something.

"Where is he?" Levi asked as soon as he answered.

"Not far," Farlan assured. "There's a hotel Rush downtown. It's locally owned, but still considered high class. He's in room 17D."

"Thank you."

"Levi." Farlan's voice caused him pause. "Do you need help?"

"No." And he was moving once again. "I'll deal with this. Trust me. No one else needs to be involved." Standing, he grabbed his briefcase before heading toward the door. Hanging up his phone in the same instance, he didn't bother explaining anything to anyone as he went straight to the elevator. He knew that the situation wasn't open to general discussion—that not even Armin needed to know. This was Eren's business. Business that Levi was going to end.

Heading as quickly as he could to his car, he was soon driving out of the company parking lot, his voice commanded GPS telling him exactly where he needed to go. Speeding through traffic, it took him only fifteen minutes to reach the hotel, which was attached to some downtown businesses. Parking parallel to the street, he left his briefcase in the car as he exited and hopped out across the sidewalk. Going straight in the front door, he waved to the woman behind the front desk flippantly, as if to convince her he was an already paying customer, before going directly to the elevator. Riding it to the fourth floor, he was soon hunkering down the hall counting down the numbers. 17D should be around the next corner, or so logic dictated.

Turning it hastily, his eyes widened when he saw the familiar shape of Eren standing outside the door, his arm holding his elbow as he toed at the floor nervously.

Levi didn't even hesitate. Pushing onward, he grabbed Eren harshly by the arm and began to drag him back the way he'd come.

"Agh! Hey! What the hell?!" Eren's voice rang of shock and surprise as he stumbled down the hall at Levi's bidding. "L-Levi? What are you- Hey- Let me go!" He pulled himself away, Levi's anger at the whole situation finally beginning to boil overboard as he turned to face the stupid punk who had started the whole situation.

"What the  _hell_  do you think you're doing here?!" His words stabbed harshly through the air, his pointer finger located just at Eren's chin as he looked up at him. "You're a fucking idiot and if you don't come with me now, I will  _drag_  your ass out by force!" He grabbed him again, his anger spiking when Eren pulled away a second time.

"What I'm doing here is none of your fucking business," Eren hissed, his eyes darting to the sides self-consciously.

"It is my business," Levi made perfectly clear. "I know perfectly well why you're here and I can guarantee you that whatever Kenny told you was worth what you're about to do, it's not." Eren paled then, his expression becoming fearful as he realized that Levi knew the truth. "Now let's go."

"Go where?"

Levi's entire backside bristled at the voice, his eyes not missing the fear that had flashed through Eren's eyes. He didn't want to be there, Levi knew that perfectly well, but that was hardly the whole point of it. Becoming defensive, Levi turned to face the man that approached, his lips pulling into a scowl.

"Away," was all Levi growled in response, Kenny wearing his trademark smile as he tipped his hat to Levi in greeting.

"Well look what we have here," Kenny taunted, not at all fazed by Levi's threatening stance. "A puppy here to be trained and an old dog. Don't you know what they say, Levi? You can't learn new tricks."

"I will fucking kill you," Levi made perfectly clear, his tone as serious as ever. He wasn't kidding. And behind him, made even more anxious by the hostility, Eren walked forward, as if to stop the aggression by getting between them. Levi saw him coming, however, and shoved him harshly back into place. Behind, where he was safer.

"You've said that before." Kenny finally wiped the smile from his face with a sigh. "And I've never felt the need to take you seriously."

"Don't tempt me, Kenny," Levi stated. "Unless you want to end up as a meat sack, I  _suggest_  you let Eren and I leave without a single fucking thing to say about it." Because he'd been waiting to kill Kenny for a long time and wasn't sure for how long he could really hold himself back.

"You can leave if you want, I have no use for you." Kenny shrugged. "Eren and I have a meeting however, one that has nothing to do with you."

"You're not doing anything with him."

"I'm pretty sure that's out of your control." Kenny crossed his arms over his chest, as though he were unimpressed. "He's the one that called me, after all, and set this whole thing up. All I did was make him the offer. Really, I'm the innocent one."

"You're never innocent," Levi stated. "Now get out of the way."

"You won't rob me of a-"

Levi had run out of patience. Taking the few steps forward that were necessary, he was soon laying his fist up into Kenny's chin, sending the man back into stumbling. Wasting no time, he then spun around and laid a purposeful roundhouse into the side of his hatted head, Kenny's whole body slamming harshly into the wall.

Without missing a beat, he then lunged back, grabbed Eren by the front of his collar, and dragged him down the hallway. So shocked by what was happening, Eren didn't have the calm to react, unable to do anything when they reached the elevator and Levi literally threw him inside. Head going in first, he collided with the other side, his skull banging loudly as he fell back against the floor.

Levi didn't care. The doors closed and within moments they were on the ground level again, Eren dazed and bleeding from a cut under his hair as Levi hefted him to his feet by the back of his sweatshirt and forced him out into the lobby. Marching him on, they passed the front desk without a word before heading through the front doors. There, waiting, Eren was finally able to register his surroundings, and Levi's silver Ferrari. Shoving him right up to the passenger side, Levi yanked open the door before harshly pushing Eren in. Knocking his head again on the way down, Eren moved his leg only just in time to avoid the door as Levi slammed it closed.

Hastily rounding the car, Levi was in the driver's seat and pulling out into the street before Eren could even open his eyes against the pain exploding in his head. When he did, however, he was so angry that he didn't bother holding back, even against Levi.

"What the fucking hell do you think you're doing?!" he yelled, his hand held against the cut on his skull that was still bleeding rather profusely. "Are you insane?!"

Levi didn't respond. Instead, he whipped the Ferrari down a side road, throwing Eren into the door rather harshly before then skidding around a corner and slamming the breaks. They were in an ally, one that opened up to another street on the other end. It was dark, they were alone, and Eren wasn't sure how he was supposed to be reacting.

Stepping back out of the car, Levi then went to the passenger side and threw the door open before grabbing Eren by the hood of his sweatshirt and throwing him from the car. Stumbling out into the dirty street, Eren stopped himself just fast enough to avoid another head-on collision with the wall.

Not that it mattered.

Fingers twining tightly into Eren's hair, the young man realized a moment too late what was going to happen. Dragging him roughly across the ally, Eren yelled in outrage as his hair was used as an anchor. But Levi didn't care. No. Instead, he tossed him up against the brick wall, Eren's back scraping harshly as he did.

Breath knocked out of him, Eren coughed, his eyes wide as he turned up to catch sight of Levi. He was just in time to see a fist coming down hard his way, tough knuckles colliding with his face as his spit went flying across the clearing. His head collided hard with the brick wall, his body falling sideways and revealing his stomach just in time for Levi to deliver a well-aimed kick. Eren saw stars, his vision blinking in and out as he fell, hacking, to the ground, his cheek rubbing through the dirt as he curled into the fetal position. The pain was immense—and Eren wasn't exactly new to fighting. Levi, however, knew what he was doing and had given him the blows with both skill and total accuracy.

"Is that all you can take?" Levi's voice was hissing in his ear, Eren's eyes cracking open to see the older man was bent over him, his straight face only inches from Eren's own. There was fire in his eyes—a threatening fierceness that Eren had never seen placed so. "Is that all the fight you have in you?"

Reaching forward again, Levi grabbed Eren by the hair and jerked him back into the sitting position, if only so he could get a better look at him.

"Do you think this is tough?" he asked, Eren beyond confused and unable to answer. He didn't know why Levi was beating up on him, or acting so insane. And, honestly, it scared him a bit. He wasn't stupid—Levi wasn't the type of person he would intentionally piss off. "You think  _this_  is pain?" Levi bent down in front of him again. "You don't know pain. You don't know anything."

Hand rushing forward, Levi grabbed Eren around the throat, constricting his airway some as Eren began to panic.

"You think the life Kenny was offering you was  _better_? Do you think  _selling_  your  _body_ will be less painful? You can't even take this and you were expecting to deliver on  **that**?!"

Disgusted, Levi shoved him back again, bending back with a single step. "You're a fucking idiot."

"You did it," Eren managed to croak out vindictively, coughing soon after as his hand came up to caress his throat.

Levi's entire demeanor stiffened, his silver eyes narrowing further, if at all possible. "Yes, I did," he admitted. "And I will tell you from experience that you'd  _never_  survive."

"Fuck you." Eren glanced away.

"Haven't you heard?" Levi bent down in front of him again. "Everybody already has." The bitterness in his voice couldn't be disguised, which just went to show how powerfully it was coming forth, because Levi would never allow such a thing to normally show through. "What do you think it's like, Eren? Being at the mercy of strangers who only see you as an object to be used? Do you think it's something that you can just forget about later?

"You never forget." His tone had become softer, a threatening murmur, and Eren was once again wide-eyed in wavering fear. "Would you like me to describe it for you? Would that convince you of how much of an idiot you've been? Do you think the feeling of walking into a strange building without any security is easy? And to know that when you go up those stairs, you'll be expected to show your body off with the knowledge that, if the right price is offered, you have to let whoever  _bought_  you do anything they want with you? Because it's in your  _contract_?" Eren gulped. "Do you know how many boys come back bruised, bleeding, and  _raped_  because Kenny sends you all over the world without a single thought to anything besides his own paycheck?

"Do you know what it's like to be raped, Eren?"

"N-no…"

"Do you  _want_  to know? Is that why you agreed to Kenny's 'job offer' and showed up there? Because that's all his training is. He shuts you in a room and convinces you it's okay because you're going to be _making money_. That it's now part of your job to let him do whatever he wants to you because he has to 'guarantee' his 'product.' And that's only the beginning! Is that what you want? To have your body used as his own personal fuck machine while he traps you in a contract you can't escape? Because I guarantee you, Eren, you wouldn't know how to escape.

"You wouldn't be strong enough!"

"No…" Eren shook his head, his eyes wide as Levi leaned in closer to him, his lips pulled into a snarl only a few inches from Eren's own.

"Then  _why_  did you go?" he hissed. "What logic  _spurred_  you to decide that  **prostitution**  was a good idea?" Eren tried to shy away from his look, honest fear continuing to run up through him. "I'd really like to know."

"I… I just…" What was he supposed to say?

"Tell me, Eren!" he persisted, his hand reaching up and grabbing him by the hair again. His fingers pulled at the strands, Eren wanting to back away, yet unable to.

"I don't…"

" _Tell_  me!"

"What else am I supposed to do?!" he blurted out suddenly, beginning to lose control (not that he'd had much anyway). "I don't want to be working two jobs the rest of my life! And I can't be a stripper forever! What else can I do?!" Tears had come to his eyes, as they always did when he was assaulted by emotion. But it was the last of his worries as they streaked down his cheeks. "I don't have an education and I can't afford to get one! I don't even have my GED! What other choice do I have?!"

"There's  _always_  another choice!" Levi rebuked before harshly slamming Eren's head back into the wall. Standing, he stared down at the young man, still angry, and had to hold back continuing to beat the shit out of him. It was only the way Eren cowered away, tears still leaking down his face, that stopped him.

It was just so… infuriating that the young man could be so incredibly stupid. Maybe he was letting his own history sway his feelings, or maybe he was seeing in Eren some of the things he'd never wanted to witness again. Too close perhaps—too much like a mirror.

"Get in the car," he issued quietly, only able to stare down at the dirty, huddled mess below him for a moment before turning and marching back to the Ferrari. Slamming himself into the driver's seat, he flexed his hands around the steering wheel, his eyes closing as he tried to calm his nerves—tried to whisk the images away that kept creeping back.

Eren, by contrast, remained leaning against the wall for some moments, still trying to catch his breath despite how his deteriorating state only made it more difficult. He felt overloaded, ashamed, and hopeless, aside from the throbbing physical blows that had been inflicted all over his body. Cheek leaning into the brick, he failed to pull himself under control, dirty and blood-spotted as his chest heaved in hiccupping sobs. Mix it all with the salt of his tears and he was nothing less than a slumped mess.

Part of him wanted to contradict what Levi had said, to stand up for his own decisions and act as he pleased. But, really, he'd never wanted to accept such a job. His situation had made him feel obligated to, and so he'd convinced himself it'd lead to something better. Like an addict who thought going down the same path would make it all go away. And he hated that Levi had called him on it—hated himself. Because, for a moment, he'd convinced himself he might have the chance at going somewhere, on being more than what he was. Even if it'd been a lie, he'd felt it for a little while. But now he was raw and exposed, and been thrust back into reality with nothing there to catch him.

He didn't have a future, not in that moment, and the weight of such emptiness made him feel as helpless and insignificant as an infant abandoned in the streets.

Which, perhaps, wasn't that far from the truth.

It was only the searing glare of headlights that eventually started him out of his spiraling self-loathing. Mostly by force. The Ferrari engine started a moment later, causing him to jump. As if Levi was growing impatient with him, which was probably a fair assessment. Maybe it was the sudden impeding of reality, or simply Eren looking for something to hide his real concerns behind, but he latched on to whatever excuse he could. Levi was going to leave him there if he didn't get up, that was a certain truth. He didn't want to be left.

He didn't want to be abandoned.

Arms shaking, he pulled himself up into standing, using the wall for leverage. Hunched into himself, and unable to even risk seeing Levi watching him from the windshield, Eren stumbled around to the passenger side door, which was still flung open. Slipping inside, he was conscious to stay as far away from Levi as possible, wedging himself up against the door as he tried to control his breathing. Sobs still wracked him, however, and so he was struggling even as Levi was backing them silently out of the ally.

He didn't want to be so pathetic, so useless, and so he even ended up with his hand covering his mouth, if only to try and forcefully quell his emotions. But it didn't work and he remained a dirty, trembling jumble all the way back to his house.

That was where they'd ended up. No one was home and Levi had whipped the Ferrari up into the drive with a little more sharpness than was probably necessary. Still, even as they sat idling in the driveway, neither one said anything. Eren knew he should leave, should just drop out the door and retreat without a single word. But, despite his better judgment, he found himself turning to Levi. He peered at the older man through red-rimmed, foggy eyes, unsure what he'd been expecting in doing so.

Levi wasn't looking at him. He was staring straight ahead through his thin, silver eyes. His hands were firmly on the wheel, Eren gulping as he noticed the whiteness to his knuckles. He was stiff, rigid even, and his breathing was so controlled that it seemed reasonable he was telling himself to do it.

Biting his lip, Eren glanced away again. Levi was angry, beyond any kind of anger Eren had ever seen. But, even so, this was a different kind of anger. It was personal, and it hurt, and Eren was only all the more ashamed of what he'd done. But more so that he'd dragged Levi into it. The speech from before was still fresh in Eren's mind, and he couldn't even imagine, based on the implications, what Levi had been through.

And to think his actions had dragged that all forward once again. Maybe Levi wasn't very expressive, but perhaps there was a reason for that.

Mood only sinking further, Eren took hold of the door handle and slowly pushed himself from the car. Unable to face Levi again, he quietly clicked the door closed behind him before shuffling up toward the house.

The sound of Levi's car leaving the driveway only ignited his tears once again.

**oOo**

Alone, Levi sat in his penthouse, the drapes pulled closed as he leaned back in his chair. He had his ankle crossed over his knee, a half-filled glass of scotch dangling from his fingers. It glistened only slightly in what little light was able to sneak inside, the gold liquid seeming to be the only thing that wavered amongst the stillness.

Frown creasing his lips, he stared across the apartment—seeing much, much more than was really there.

**oOo**

Eren didn't want to go to work. He didn't  _want_  to do anything. But he couldn't afford to miss and so he was there, beat up or not. He hadn't said a word to any of his coworkers, not even Ymir, and none of them had so much as pressed him to do so. It was quite clear that there was a dark, dark cloud following him. Not only that, but seeing a stripper that comes into work with a busted cheek, a black eye, and bruises elsewhere on his body wasn't exactly something they interrogated each other about.

They each had their own business, no matter how dangerous, and it wasn't unheard of that one of them came in looking worse for wear. It was an unspoken rule that no one asked.

Tired and drained, Eren unrolled the makeup he rarely used and began to brush it over his many bruises, focusing lastly on brightening his face. Thankfully, the lights on stage would do well in covering up what he couldn't, but it was still tedious. He'd have to reapply the stuff every time he came off stage, due to his sweat. But it wasn't as though he deserved less (rather, he felt he deserved worse in general) and so he didn't even allow himself to flinch as he smudged concealer across his bruised cheek.

Normally, performing was a passion, a high that Eren couldn't get enough of, but he was completely deflated that evening. He did his acts robotically, hardly remembering what he'd done when he came off stage again. Instead, shoulders slumped, eyes distracted, he'd sit on his stool and go through the motions.

Until, halfway through the night, someone did dare impede on his silence.

"Your admirer is back." It was Reiner. The two weren't great friends, and usually spent a majority of their time together competing and teasing, but the blonde's voice was softer than usual as he sat down beside Eren. He was backwards in the chair, unable to hold back the flitting concern on his face as he looked Eren up and down.

"What are you talking about?" Eren asked flatly, all-out refusing to touch on any other subject.

"That guy," Reiner continued. "The one who comes in every night you're here? And only looks up when you come on stage?" Eren vaguely remembered hearing about this person once before, but his existence had quickly slipped from his mind—he had a lot of admirers.

"Yeah, so?"

Reiner frowned. "I dunno. You seemed kinda down." Clearly. "Just tryin' to give you something good to think about."

Eren finally looked at him, green eyes somewhat apologetic. "Sorry. Thanks." He couldn't pull off a smile, but Reiner seemed to understand. Getting up, he patted Eren twice on the shoulder before heading off.

Glancing back to his mirror, Eren finished reapplying his make-up before heading over to the costumes. Settling on a red mask fanned with feathers and pair of red, sparkly shorts, he left out anything more complicated, deciding to keep things simple despite how that differed from his typical aesthetic.

He just didn't have it in him to care as much as usual.

Things seemed to blur together, and not just in reference to his time working at the club. The day before, following his confrontation with Levi, was nothing but a vague memory of him lying in bed all afternoon and evening. Armin and Mikasa had both come to try and speak with him, but he'd ignored both. He'd gone in to ES that morning, but the day had worn on with a sense of distracted drudgery that left no imprint in his mind—especially since Levi had apparently taken the day off, which meant he hadn't been plagued by paranoid shame.

Mostly he felt numb. His heart was broken, his future was bleak, and the man he'd fallen for probably thought even worse of him than he ever had before.

Part of him wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

But he didn't. He went on stage, he started his routine, and the crowd cheered as they always did, apparently not noticing his lack of passion.

Eren hadn't meant to be caught by a pair of sharp, silver eyes.

He'd hadn't intended to scan the crowd, finding it easier to pretend as though he were alone. But as he'd swung around on the pole, his attention was snatched, mental whiplash almost causing him pause in his routine.

Levi. Levi was there.

It shouldn't be so surprising, but it still caught him off guard nonetheless. Because, based on what had happened the day before, Levi must know. That was, know his identity. How else would he have figured out what was going on? Granted, Eren didn't know the details, or even for how long Levi had known his identity, but, somehow, in that eye-catching moment, he'd realized it.

Levi knew, and yet he was still there.

He was sitting alone, in the back. Like always. Supposedly he came there for a reason; he came there for someone else. Eren had never seen him with anyone, but Isabel had said he was  _obsessed_  with this person. Despite himself, Eren felt a flame of jealousy spark in him—a bitter, harsh flame. And so his eyes darted around, even as he danced, looking for who this person could be that had captured Levi's attention. Yet, he could single out no one, his focus falling once more on those silver eyes.

Silver that was staring right back.

One again, Eren was almost knocked aside by the intensity of his look, pulling his own attention around once again. To the table. To Levi's lone, half-finished beverage. And the book sitting beside his elbow.

 _The book_.

With the exception of Levi's assault on him the day before, Eren was pretty sure he hadn't ever been hit by something so hard in his life. The realization nearly caused him to fall down off his pole, only habit keeping him upright.

He didn't know why he hadn't put two and two together before. The admirer Reiner spoke of, who came in and only watched him. Who read when he wasn't on stage. Levi, who always had a book, who was always so intent, if not straight-faced.

No, Eren was almost too afraid to believe it. There was no way Levi was coming only to see him.

He didn't dare stretch the possibility that far.

But, even so—even in as foul as temperament as he was—Eren was still reckless. He still let his feelings lead him, even when he knew they shouldn't. Actively, he warned himself against it, told himself not to feel any sort of spark or hope. He'd only pay for it in the end. Yet, despite this, his body carried him down. Gaze still locked with Levi's through the mask, he lowered himself to all fours (much to the cheering crowd's celebration) before beginning a sensual crawl down to the head of the stage. Down the shallow runway, where he didn't usually ever go. Until he was at the end—as close as he could get.

And still, he was sure, there was that eye contact.

Fingers wrapping around the edge of the stage, Eren ignored the way the crowd seemed to swarm in on him, enthralled with his abrupt decision to get up close and personal. If there were men and women slipping dollars in his shorts, he didn't bother acknowledging them. Instead, bowing his body out as his groin rubbed against the stage, his dragged his gaze up from Levi's, as if daring the man to keep staring at him.

Fingers clipping loose from the stage, he drew them slowly up his body, until they were at his throat. At which point, his pelvis still grinding into the stage, he bent backward. Back and back, until he was folded over completely, his chest exposed to the lights above, legs doubled under him. He raised his hips to the air, motioning suggestively to the screaming delight of those watching.

Dragging one finger from his mouth down his chest, he danced it over the rim of his shorts before, biting his lip as he did, sliding it down between the fabric and his skin. The rest of his hand followed, the crowd continuing to get louder as he thrust his hips into the air once again.

It was trashy, really. At least in comparison to what he normally did on stage. But he didn't care, not then. It wasn't meant to be a show, not really. It was a message, one he wasn't sure he should have sent as he bent back up again. If only because he'd already gone so far, he made sure to catch Levi's stare as he stood, dragging out the eye contact as he slowly turned and headed back toward the poles.

He wasn't sure if it was a smirk he'd spotted on Levi's face or if it'd simply been a trick of the light.

The set ended shortly after, Eren breathing hard as he headed back stage. His heart was pounding and his eyes were wide, as if he'd been splashed with a bucket of ice water.

He needed to calm down. He needed to get his head on straight. But his depression over the last few days was quickly getting covered up, especially as his mind worked furiously forward.

If Levi was his admirer, if it was him who he was coming to see, then that was good, right? That meant his obsession was with the Rogue Mask. If, in fact, he was jumping to the right conclusions.

Conclusions were dangerous.

But taking a chance was the only way to really know, right? Besides, if he owed Levi anything, it was an apology. After being so idiotically stupid, and causing the older man so much grief on so many occasions, he had to do something. It didn't matter if Levi was there to see him or not.

It was the right thing to do.

Wasn't it?

It didn't matter. He had to do something—he'd become desperate. If only for one chance, no matter how slim.

Standing quickly, Eren whipped around on his stool before heading purposefully for the door between backstage and the rest of the bar. Opening it only enough to draw attention, he peeked out before beckoning to the first waiter that happened to see him.

Foolish or not, it was too late.

If the waiter was surprised by the message Eren whispered into his ear, he didn't question it. Rather, with the straight face expected, he nodded in understanding before retreating from the door. Heading across the club, he located the lone man sitting at one of the back booths, book in hand, before clearing his throat upon approach.

Levi glanced up, but said nothing.

"Sir," he said, voice lowered in a fashion that made it clear what he was saying was meant to be discreet. "I have a message for you."

Eyes narrowing, Levi snapped his book closed, still saying nothing as he listened.

"You've been offered a free lap-dance, if you're interested."

"By who?" Levi asked a little too quickly.

"The Rogue Mask." The waiter let the name hang appropriately.

Levi didn't offer a response right away. Instead, perfectly still, he seemed to be considering the offer. Within a few moments, however, he was taking action. His expression didn't change, but he stood. Gesturing silently for the waiter to lead the way, he followed through the throngs of people. All the way back to the infamous red curtain, perpetually guarded by the large bouncer. Lead on by an employee, he wasn't stopped. Instead, the waiter pulling the curtain aside for him, he was gestured into a vaguely lit room. The walls were covered in more of the infamous curtains, the carpet a disgusting red to match. It smelled of cigarettes and body spray, much like the rest of the club, and there was a single, gold-cushioned chair in the center of the room.

"Please take a seat," the waiter issued. "I'm sure he'll be with you in a moment." Because, normally, those doing the dancing would have lead the ones wanting it back themselves.

With the curtain falling back into place, Levi was left alone. Slowly, because nothing rushed him, he made his way over to the chair before sitting down. Slumped some with his elbow on the arm, he propped his head up on his fist and waited.

Far too long, actually. Levi didn't like to be kept waiting, as  _certain_  people very well knew. And though he hadn't been sitting for much more than a minute, he started to grow irritated.

The fingers of his free hand began tapping upon the other arm of the chair.

"There are rules here, you know." Levi wasn't the type to jump, but even he was forced to admit that the voice had snuck up on him, murmuring into his ear. Eyes flicking, he saw the edges of a red mask, one that drew away as silver met green.

"But before that," the Rogue Mask continued, his words drawn and soft, "tell me your  _name_."

He'd crouched down beside the chair, Levi's head still propped up on his fist as he peered down at him. Bare shoulders; red feathers over shaggy brown hair.

Maybe Levi could play his little game.

"Why do you need to know my name?" He'd cocked a single eyebrow, but exuded no other interest.

"I like to know the names of all my admirers," he replied softly, one of his fingers coming up to drag just lightly down the white sleeve of Levi's dress shirt. "It's a little difficult sometimes, as there are so _many_ , but I do my best."

Levi "hmphed." "Modest."

He got a smile in response, one wide and full of teeth. It was that familiar, pretty smile, upper lip pulling just slightly on one side to reveal pink gums. Cute, and endearing, and not what Levi would have expected from the Rogue Mask until the day before.

"And if I don't give you my name?" Levi asked.

"Then I suppose," the Rogue Mask slowly stood, bending over beside the chair with his hand on the back, drawing Levi's attention upward to his stare, "I'll just have to call you 'Lover.' But," he spun and walked away abruptly—until he was some few feet in front of Levi, "only for the duration of the show."

He winked from behind his mask.

"Like I said," he continued, "we have rules here,  _Lover_. And  _everyone_  has to follow them. Break one of these rules and I'll have you escorted from the premises." Like any good stripper, he'd said it all with a sense of endearment. "First," he held up a single finger, "no drinking or drugs. But," another smile, "as you come here  _so_  often, you're probably already well-aware of that one.

"Secondly," two fingers, "no photos or any other type of recording. So make sure you're paying attention."

Levi kept his expression purposefully straight.

"And lastly." Finally, the Rogue Mask approached again, standing directly in front of Levi as he reached out and lightly took hold of his wrists. Straightening in his seat—if only because he had to—Levi watched as his hands were delicately placed flat upon the arms of the chairs. "Touching is  _strictly_  prohibited," was the murmured explanation. "I may touch you," he pulled his nails softly up Levi's arms, "but all your limbs, and lips, must be kept to yourself.

"Do you think you can follow these rules?"

"I suppose I don't have a choice."

Another wide smile below that mask.

Nails continuing to trail up Levi's arms, hands were eventually set lightly on his shoulders. Watching all the while, Levi remained outwardly unaffected as the Rogue Mask leaned in closer. As he lifted his right knee and wedged it on the chair between Levi's thighs. Body hovering closer, he pressed his knee further—until he met friction. Just enough pressure, Levi's eyes narrowing some as the Rogue bowed in, cheek nearly brushing cheek as hot breath was wisped beneath Levi's ear.

That knee kneaded gently against him, hot fingers trailing from his shoulder and over the collar of his shirt. Until they rested lightly against his neck, before beginning a slow meandering down toward his chest. Levi momentarily wished he'd unbuttoned his shirt some, but it was too late, as those fingers were atop his the shirt once again, heavier as they were pushed against the fabric.

There was hot breath lingering down his jaw, lips only just brushing once before the path continued downward. To his neck, knee retreating as the Rogue Mask began a slow slink down Levi's body. His nose was a vague touch as he drew himself across his chest. Down further, until his breath was fogging Levi's silver belt buckle.

More pressure. His lips were outlining the tight stiffness that had formed against Levi's pants, who was staring down at him as the Rogue's head drew down between his legs. As he paused just long enough there, heat permeating between them before he finally drew back.

Balanced and graceful, he placed one hand on Levi's knee as he crouched, turning until his whole form was profile. He rolled his body first down before bending back up, stretching his muscled form and giving Levi a full view of how his skin pulled against his abdomen; how his muscles set in his legs.

How those ridiculous red shorts rode up as a result of the strain, revealing more than already had been and constricting against the front.

Perfectly aware of the state of his shorts (if they could  _really_  be called that), the Rogue pulled his hand up to his chest before dragging his fingers downward—until they were just at the lip of the fabric around his hips. Yet, just as his nails had begun to sink between his skin and the fabric, he did a graceful turn that left Levi staring at his back.

Or, rather, something a little lower.

Unblinking, yet straight-faced despite how his blood pumped, Levi watched as the Rogue slowly began to bend over. Legs spread at shoulder width, he easily kept himself steady as he gradually folded his body at the middle, back bowing as his ass was thrust up into the air. And as he went to bend up again—sensually and with deft control of his every muscle—his hand fell between his legs, dragging from the front and down between his thighs. Pulling up with the rest of his body, his hand dragged against the underside of his shorts—until it vanished to the front once again.

Levi tapped one finger against the arm of his chair, lips tightening only slightly.

Standing straight, the Rogue Mask glanced back over his shoulder, pausing for a moment to cast Levi another smile before, his hips seeming to lead the way, he turned yet again.

Levi just barely clicked his tongue at what he saw. The shorts were tight, and small, and the Rogue Mask had clearly taken advantage of the fact. The bulge was even more prominent than before, and pulled away just at the top edge. To make room for the head of what was beneath to poke above just enough to draw Levi's eyes.

Stepping forward once again, there was no hesitation as the Rogue pulled first one knee onto the left edge of the chair cushion before then doing the same on the right. Until he was straddling Levi's legs, his hands once again resting on his shoulders as he sat in Levi's lap.

Focus pulling gradually upward, Levi took in that green once again, his own stare narrowing in the same moment. Because that ridiculously pretty smile was still in place and Levi found it rather insulting. Especially since he wasn't allowed to do anything about it.

The Rogue Mask leaned in then, pressing himself forward as his lips found Levi's neck. Levi, whose hold tightened on the arms of the chair as exposed hips began to deliberately grind against his own. He could feel the heat, and the hardened pressure that slid together despite the fabric between them. And there were lips on his neck, leaving warm echoes in places no one had touched in a long time.

The grinding grew heavier, though deliberately slow, and Levi took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. As he turned his head just enough for his nose to brush those stupid feathers. And, more importantly, the soft hair mixed in. Those lips were pulling harder on his skin and their hips were practically melded together, moving in unison as Levi gave in just a little, pushing back despite how his hands tightened on the chair arms, until his knuckles were white.

Lids heavy, he peered down across the Rogue's muscled back, only allowed to watch for a moment as that muscular ass strained against those stupid shorts, which were little more than a thong at that point. Soon enough, the Rogue Mask was leaning back, their hips still grinding as he pulled his lips from Levi's neck, chest exposed as he used Levi's shoulder for leverage to continue pressing into him.

Attention trailing down, Levi wasn't much surprised to see that the shorts had stood little chance against the activity rubbing against them. They'd slid away, falling to the base of the shaft that was now naked, rubbing against Levi's own despite the barrier of his own dress slacks. A more intimate dance than once might expect, yes, but not something Levi was going to complain about. Rather, his hand twitched on the arm of the chair, wanting to reach down between them. To grab that exposed need and take control of the situation.

But that wasn't allowed. That wasn't part of the game. And so he settled for dragging his eyes back up to meet that green, his glare intent and pointed as he made his irritation over the whole situation quite obvious.

All he got in response was another one of those stupid, knowing smiles.

He wasn't allowed to win this one, and that was infuriating. Levi didn't like to lose, especially when he wasn't even given the chance to win.

Leaning forward again, the Rogue Mask breathed heavy, hot air across the base of Levi's ear, settling one last kiss there before speaking.

His voice wasn't the sensual, endearing, teasing tone it had been previously. For a moment, he'd seemingly abandoned the act, the voice that came forth reminding Levi far too vividly of offices, coffee shops, and gyms.

" _Thank you._ "

Levi was cold a moment later.

Lightly and balanced, the Rogue Mask had pushed himself up, seeming to vanish as he stood and turned quickly around the side of the chair, disappearing from the same place he'd seemingly come. As though a chilly winter wind had passed him by, the heat in Levi's skin simmered—unsatisfied and abandoned. Burning.

Teeth gritting, he sat back in his seat, his hand finally unclenching from around the chair arm to come up and hold his head once again. Staring out across the empty room, he took a deep breath in through his nose and closed his eyes.

"That little shit."

**oOo**

"You do?" Eren wasn't too sure what he'd walked in on. Eyebrows rising, he took in the scene. All three of his roommates were there—Armin at the stove, Mikasa at the kitchen table, and Jean sitting backward in one of the bar stools. Petra was also there, sitting beside Mikasa as she looked around at them all hopefully.

"Of course," Armin smiled over his shoulder, a plastic spoon in hand. By the smell of it, he was making some of his apple jam. Always weak for it, Eren slid the rest of the way into the room until he was beside Armin. Pretending to be discreet, he slipped a finger into the pan of sugared apple sauce before bringing it slowly to his lips.

Armin glared at him the whole time.

"Oh, great!" Petra exclaimed, a wide smile on her pretty face. "I'm not getting old after all." Eren cocked a single eyebrow. "Oh, Eren you should- What happened to your face?"

Eren pursed his lips before giving Petra the same cryptic response he'd been giving everyone. "You should see the other guy."

All three of his roommates gave him disapproving looks, none of them happy that he'd all out refused to give even a hint about what had happened to him. They'd all noticed his bruises—there was no hiding them—and were probably all imagining the worst when considering his line of work. But Eren absolutely refused to budge on the subject.

Really, he was simply too ashamed to admit the truth.

Petra gave him a curious look, mouth open as though she'd been about to badger him further, but then ultimately thought better of it. "Alright," she said slowly. "Well, anyway!" Her upbeat disposition returned and so the heat was off Eren. "I was just asking everyone if they wanted to come with me to this new club downtown. Isabel and I were just going to go, as kind of a 'happy birthday/get out of the house' night for me."

"It's your birthday?" Eren asked, taking another finger-full of the sauce despite how Armin poked him in the side, from which he shied away without taking his attention off Petra. "Happy birthday!"

"Thank you." She smiled.

"What about Oluo?" Jean interjected.

"He's babysitting for the night," Petra explained. "We already had our birthday 'celebration,' if you know what I mean." She winked, Jean frowning in the same moment. "So do you want to come too?" She returned her attention to Eren.

"Sure." He shrugged. He didn't have to work and it'd been a while since he'd been out doing anything with his friends. Besides, he could use a fun night out. He was feeling a little better since the "incident," if not a little embarrassed over what he'd done the night before, and the idea of a pick-me-up sounded especially inviting.

So long as Levi wasn't going to be there, he was game. He wasn't near ready to face the older man after what had "happened," cumulatively speaking. If he was ever going to be ready, period.

"Yes!" Petra pumped her fist in a rather unnecessary manner. "Girls night out, only with boys too," she said as she stood. "I'm just going to go change and then I'll pull my car around once Isabel gets here. Oh." She'd furrowed her brows, looking between them all. "I guess we'll take two cars."

Eren quickly did the math. "Nah, just take one. These three can fit in the back of your car, right? I'll just take my bike." The bike he'd had to ride the bus across town to get after Levi had "escorted" him in his Ferrari. Not that he was complaining.

"Okay, awesome!" Petra smiled. "See you guys in a few." With a skip in her step, she headed out the door, the other four scattering as she did. They all had to change, and Armin had to transfer his pot of apple jam into the crockpot before they headed out.

Forcefully ignoring any shame or disappointment he'd been feeling over the last week, Eren tried to be positive as he rifled through his clothes. He eventually settled on a pair of skinny jeans he rarely had occasion to wear, a tight black tank-top, and his blue, high-top sneakers. Giving his hair a ruffle as he passed by his mirror, he grabbed his leather jacket lastly before heading down the stairs.

He was the first one down, but the others started filing in within a few moments. Mikasa was dressed in a similar manner to him, her belly not even beginning to show through her tank top. Jean had gone for typical bro style, which Eren wasn't surprised by, and Armin kept it all simple in a t-shirt, lose jeans, and tennis shoes.

Heading out the door to wait on the porch, they were just in time to see Petra pulling the car from her drive into theirs. Isabel was waving from the front seat far more dramatically than necessary.

Helmet in hand, Eren waved shortly to them as his roommates squeezed into Petra's economy car, waiting until they'd left to follow behind. The drive was some twenty minutes, Eren staying close on their bumper so as not to lose Petra's car in the downtown traffic. The sky was dark above them, as it was already evening, and Eren could see the lights of the club before they'd even hit the parking lot.

It was crowded—seeing as it was a Saturday night in Los Vegas—and people were congregated outside with bottles, glasses, and cigarettes in their hands. They were laughing, mostly, and Eren was further comforted by the blasé atmosphere as he parked in the front of the spot beside Petra. More distracting, which meant he had less reason to think too hard.

"That's what I kept telling him!" Isabel was saying as they left the car, continuing on with whatever conversation they'd been having previously. "It doesn't make any sense that a bear would be in the supermarket."

Eren furrowed his brows.

"I don't think that's the relevant detail you're looking for," Jean remarked shortly, though there was an amused smirk on his face. Armin and Petra were smiling as well, Mikasa the only straight-faced one among them. Not that such was surprising. Despite her typical disinterest, there was a warm calm about her that Eren knew meant she was having a good time. Until she looked over at him, at which point she frowned—as she had been the last three days every time she saw him, as though she was casting her disapproval at the person who'd beat on him through his injuries.

Eren looked in the opposite direction.

"C'mon, let's go!" Petra cut in, linking her arms through Isabel's and Mikasa's as they marched across the parking lot toward the club. The three guys stayed behind, silently following the girls through the door as they were blasted with the high pounding music before they'd even been fully inside. Heavy bass thrummed all around them, the lights dim and colored. Bodies crowded around everywhere, most with drinks and in groups with others. Sweaty and dressed to impress.

They managed to snag a table on the far side, near the dance floor, while Armin took their shouted drink orders before heading to the bar. Aware that this night was for Petra, and always the extrovert, Eren wasted little time in gently taking her arm and escorting her to the dance floor. He wasn't the type to be with a pretty girl (or boy) on their birthday and watch them not have a good time. It gave him something to think about otherwise anyway.

Isabel joined them a moment later, Mikasa and Jean remaining back at the table as the fast paced music throbbed up through the bodies. Eren, while keeping the necessary attention on his partners, allowed the beat to carry him away. This wasn't like work, where he was there to perform. This was a different kind of dancing. This was the bass in his bones, the lights and bodies of others conforming around him as he moved inside the tide. This was thoughtless, and simple, and distracting.

He could merely be—existing without expectation and moving without consideration. It was a kind of dance that wasn't impressive, but it was easy. It was ordinary, even if those who knew where to look could tell that, maybe, he knew a little bit more about what he was doing.

Eren never ran out of energy when it came to dancing. He kept on till he was sweating. Until he was just another heedless copy out on the floor, desperate for the sensation of movement without meaning. Petra and Isabel stuck with him for a while, but were eventually changed out for Mikasa and Armin, who were better dancers than one might think. They'd grown up with Eren, after all, with his house having been the base for their exploits. Mikasa had had her share of lessons from his mother, and Armin had sucked what he'd been able off the two of them. None could recall the number of afternoons they'd spent in Eren's basement, the music cranked and the lights dim, their bodies the only things moving.

There was a kind of emptiness in it, something Eren was actively looking for. A physicality that didn't require thought, something they'd all spent much of their younger years trying to avoid.

Not a behavior someone who didn't know them might expect from Armin or Mikasa, but apparent nonetheless.

Eren didn't know how long he'd been on the dance floor before Mikasa finally took him by the arm and pulled him back. Zapping him from the bubble, she tugged him toward the table where Petra, Isabel, and Jean were having a loud conversation over the noise of the club.

"You look disgusting!" Jean shouted as Eren pushed his damp hair back away from his forehead. Sweat dripped down his cheeks, had sullied his shirt, but he cared little, smiling and waggling his eyebrows suggestively in Jean's direction, causing the other man to frown.

"Here, you need some of this too!" Isabel said as he hopped from her seat and came to Eren's side. She had a package of glitter in her hand, Eren laughing as she dumped some into her hands before beginning to wipe it wherever she could all over his face. Both she and Petra were already glittering under the dimmed, flashing lights, a single strip on Jean's cheek as though he hadn't ducked back quite fast enough as Isabel had come after him.

The glitter was rubbed all over Armin and Mikasa as well, the bag in a sad state of emptiness afterward.

Not paying much attention to what it was or whose, Eren grabbed one of the many drinks from the center of the table, feeling safe in its contents as Jean had been stationed at the table the whole time. That was usually his job. He didn't care much for dancing and so was usually their posted drink-guard.

Across the table, Petra had her phone and was texting, a smile forming across her lips as she did.

"Who are you talking to?!" Isabel asked a second later, leaning over Petra's shoulder just as she was lowering her phone again.

"Levi!" she explained loudly, Eren's heart starting at the mention of the name.

"Is he still being a big-ole stick in the mud?!" Isabel asked. Eren continued with his drink while he listened.

"No, actually!" Petra explained, still smiling. "He said he'd drop by for a little while!"

Eren's blood ran cold, leaving him feeling sticky beneath his sweat.

"I thought he said he'd rather be working than come to a disgusting place like this!" Isabel countered.

"I guess he changed his mind!" Petra replied. "Maybe he was feeling lonely after all the fun I told him we were all having!"

"I doubt that!"

"Levi's coming  _here_?!" Eren interjected, drawing their attention. "This doesn't exactly seem like his kind of place!"

"It's not!" Petra said, still with her light-hearted smile. "I didn't think he'd come either. I was just teasing him when he decided to drop by!" She shrugged, winking a moment later. "I told him you were here!"

Eyebrows furrowing, Eren was stuck frozen at that, unsure what to make of it. He wondered, fleetingly, how much Petra knew, but based on her behavior, was guessing nothing. In which case, Eren was just falling victim to her continued attempts to set him up with her "gay friend," who he'd long since come to realize was Levi. Days ago, he might have let it go, but, in that moment, he wanted the exact opposite.

Levi was coming? After hearing he was there? What did that mean?

"Eren?!" It was Armin's hand on his hand that had shocked him out of his frozen stupor. Glancing down at his friend, he saw a kind of knowing concern in his big, blue eyes. Knowledge Eren wasn't apt to acknowledge.

"I'm fine!" he assured, despite the fact that Armin hadn't asked. "C'mon!" He looked to Mikasa as well, who'd been momentarily distracted by Jean. "Let's go back out on the floor!"

He'd considered, only quickly, trying to find a way to duck out. A reason to leave. But there was no viable reason to do so. All his friends were there, they'd know something was up, and suddenly running off after Petra's announcement would make it quite clear to certain people (Petra and Armin specifically) that he was trying to avoid Levi. He wasn't sure he was ready for that kind of scrutiny.

Yet, he wasn't sure he could stand to face Levi either. And as he was moving blindly on the dance floor, he was caught going back and forth over which would be worse to deal with. Which made the actual dancing rather unenjoyably.

Despite his misgivings, however, there was a small, little, tiny, suffocated part of him that was wanting to see Levi. It was sadistic, really, and Eren did all he could to drown out the excited sparks that zipped through him as a result. He didn't have any right to be excited over seeing Levi, really. He knew his feelings weren't returned; he knew Levi probably thought nothing of him after saving him from a terrible decision and knowing he was a stripper. There was nothing to look forward to.

But that same part of him that had dared like Levi in first place, that had dared to give him the lap dance the night before, was still there. A rash foolishness that Eren had always had less control over than he was willing to admit.

Why did he do this to himself?

His thoughts leapt between these multiple extremes for the duration of his next twenty minutes on the dance floor, causing only another layer of sweat—this one caused by anxiety—to form over what was already there. Until Mikasa needed to go back for some water (since she obviously wasn't drinking alcohol), at which point Armin nodded in agreement, leaving Eren to either dance by himself or go with them.

He wanted to stay, for his own safety, but also wanted to know if Levi was there.

He  _wanted_  to see him.

If only to inflict himself with the pain of rejection all over again. Because that was why people always kept going back, right? Even if the drug hurt, there was still that high.

Breath shaky from both exertion as well as nerves, Eren followed his friends back through the crowd to the table.

He looked around immediately, it taking him all of one second to spot the new silhouette beside Petra, the two speaking close to one another if only to fight off the sound of the pounding music.

Eren cursed his suicidal courage, which practically dared him to go up to the table. He could run. He could get away.

But he didn't.

Because he was an idiot.

Reaching for one of the drinks on the table, Eren did manage to avoid looking directly at Levi while he gulped it down. The burning rash of alcohol numbed him some, allowing him a bit of calm, and he took in a huffing breath as he set the glass back down on the table.

"Damn, Eren, chill out!" Jean yelled, a few of the others watching him in amusement. He'd just downed an entire drink, after all. "I don't want to have to carry you home!"

"Jean, we both know that I've always been able to hold my alcohol better than you!" Eren replied, generally able to come up with an insult for Jean when necessary. "Pretty sure it's always been me carrying you home!"

Jean frowned. "Well, there's a first time for everything!"

"First time you'll control yourself and actually walk out of here not stumbling?!" Eren cracked, Jean glaring. Their argument didn't have the chance to escalate, however, because soon there was a tap on Eren's shoulder that caused him to whip his head around in surprise.

"Hey!" It was a stranger, Eren's eyebrows shooting up curiously. The man was a little taller than Eren, blonde, relatively good looking. He had a cocky smile on his face as he leaned his hand against their table.

"Hi!" Eren said a moment later, turning so he was facing the new encounter—opening himself up.

The man glanced only quickly to the group watching, clearly not the least bit affected by their eyes on him. "I saw you dancing a little while ago! Thought maybe I'd offer you my services!" He winked.

Armin shook his head and Jean rolled his eyes. Both Petra and Isabel gaped, Levi remaining as straight-faced as Mikasa while they watched. Because this was far from the first time Eren had been approached so directly. None of them quite understood it, but he seemed to draw in interested strangers as a habit. Mikasa said it was because he danced too suggestively, but Eren couldn't help it if he was only trying to have fun. He was far less suggestive than a good majority of the women.

"Your services?!" Eren questioned coyly, always willing to play the innocent act in these situations. If only for the sake of his own amusement.

"Sure!" the man replied with an easy shrug. "You come with me and I'll show you how to really move out there!"

"Oh,  _really_?!" Eren had actually laughed a little at that. Skeptically. As had Armin. Usually, when he was approached, his dancing skills weren't called into question. But, as he took in this man's arrogant little lean, he realized it wasn't so much a suggestion of incompetence as it was a challenge. Not a dancing challenge, but a challenge of another kind. Whether Eren could dance or not was irrelevant—that wasn't what this was about.

Well, Eren knew how to play this kind of game.

"I could teach you a thing or two!" the man replied.

Glancing back at Armin and Mikasa over his shoulder, Eren pretended at being interested. "He wants to show me a thing or two!" he repeated, the three of them sharing in silent, personal humor. "Do you think I should let him?!"

"I dunno, Eren!" Armin replied, tone teasing. "You never know, maybe you'll learn something!"

"Maybe!" Eren had turned back to the man. "Well then, by all means!" He gestured to the dance floor, the man smiling a little wider as he turned. Looking only once more over his shoulder, Eren waggled is eyebrows before grinning, Armin laughing and Mikasa even managing a small smile.

"This ought to be interesting…" Jean muttered.

"I thought Eren was a dancer!" Petra interjected, unfamiliar with the implications behind Eren's behavior that his three roommates had understood perfectly well.

"He is!" Jean verified. "Just watch!" Because the two hadn't gone that far out onto the dance floor. They were near the edge, visible to the table, and were facing each other. Quite unlike his typical posture, Eren was overly lax, his shoulders seeming to droop back as he stood with his hands at his side.

The stranger was speaking, as if trying to initiate a dance as he moved his hips lightly.

Eren shook his head, raising his hands as if asking what he should do.

Such behavior was clearly teasing, and the stranger was as well aware of it as everyone watching. Reaching out, he took Eren by the hips, as if to lead him into the typical grinding dance expected between partners at the club. Yet, despite his advances, Eren made it continually difficult.

With a deliberate kind of heaviness, he dropped his hands to the stranger's shoulders, still rather stiff as the man laughed and rubbed his hips into Eren's. Eren, who managed no physical response and was feigning ignorance far too obviously.

The man said something, still smiling, and Eren visibly "ohhhed," as though having had an epiphany. Rather robotically, he jutted his hip to one side, the move so deliberately stiff that it continually made obvious that he was simply being difficult. He gave his partner a questioning look.

Not willing to give up, the man released his hold on Eren's hips, saying something as he did a slight body wave, snapping his fingers at the same time. As though he was encouraging Eren to loosen up.

As if he'd finally come to some sort of grand understanding, Eren's eyes went wide and he "ohhhed" once again. He'd taken a rather deliberate two steps back, the move looking like a stumble but far too calculated to have been such. Deliberate clumsiness.

And as the music rose, Eren's posture did with it. Feet snapping to attention, he let loose, his hips swinging as he spun in a single circle before rolling the entirety of his body. The move was smooth like water, ending with him balanced on the tips of his shoes as his back leaned almost dangerously. Yet, just before it looked as though he might topple backwards, he swung his leg tightly, managing to spin again before he ended with his feet together, saluting his partner as his hips and shoulders lowered with mockingly bad posture.

The stranger was not nearly as impressed as everyone else that had watched. Rather, he was standing straight, lips tight as his good humor dropped away. It was one thing to play coy, after all, and quite another to humiliate your partner. But, then again, perhaps it was a little insolent to come up to a table full of people and lean in as if you should be the center of attention, before suggesting that you have something to "teach" the one whose personal space you had invaded.

But, then again, who was to say?

Clearly done with the whole thing at that point, the man waved once before turning, beginning to walk away. Raising his hands, Eren gave an exaggerated shrug in response, much to the giggling amusement of the dancers around him who'd seen the display. Leaving it at that, he turned on his heel, feet dancing beneath him as he sidled back up to the table. He was smiling, despite himself.

"That was mean!" Armin said with a laugh.

Eren shrugging again, grabbing another drink. "He's the one that wanted to teach  _me_  something. Not my fault if I already knew more than he did!"

"Gee, there's that natural humbleness!" Jean rebuked.

"I'm sorry, are you the one that's been training in dance since you were five years old?! I don't think so!"

"Training in jackassery, more like!"

"Better a jackass than a horse-face!"

It looked almost as though Jean was going to lunge across the table at him for that one, Petra and Isabel laughing despite Mikasa and Armin knowing how quickly spats between the two could escalate.

Having taken a step back from the table, Eren was smug, his hands in the air as he moved his shoulders back and forth to the beat, mockingly defensive. Jean simmered, not at all amused, which only resulted in Eren's laughter.

"I think he got what he deserved!" Petra interjected, drawing all eyes her way. "He seemed way too cocky, coming over here like that!" Not so much because he asked for a dance, but, rather, the way in which he'd done it.

"Yeah!" Isabel agreed, raising her glass as she did. "Here, here! To Eren embarrassing jerks-wads!"

Petra and Armin raised their glasses as well, Eren doing a rather exaggerated bow in response.

Levi rolled his eyes.

"I saw that!" Eren stated, the words escaping him despite how he regretted it seconds later. He hadn't intended to bend back up and see Levi, but his gaze had gone that way quite unintentionally, leaving Eren to wonder if he'd had one too many drinks. But he did have to admit that seeing the man sent his heart to his throat—even if he was wearing dress slacks and a button-up shirt on a Saturday.

"So?" Levi asked, his voice low despite the noise of the club.

"Hey, you should go out and dance with Eren!" Petra suggested suddenly, patting Levi on the arm despite how Eren's cheeks paled at the idea. "Maybe he could teach  _you_  a thing or two!"

"No," Levi said in response, taking a small sip from his own drink. "I don't dance. Besides," he looked directly at Eren, "I much prefer to watch."

The whiteness to Eren's cheeks flooded with pink, his attention falling downward. Levi's hint didn't go over his head and, not wanting anyone else to really take any more note of it than necessary, Eren's vision dipped before coming up on Isabel.

"C'mon!" He moved on from the topic, holding out his hand. "Let's go!" More than willing to accept, Isabel followed him out onto the dance floor, Levi ignoring the way Petra looked at him in disapproval. Huffing, she eventually admitted defeat and turned her attention to the rest of the table.

"Has Eren really be dancing since he was five?!" She asked, wanting to continue conversation.

"Yeah!" Armin nodded. "His mom was a dancer, so…" The implication was clear, Armin shrugging as he sucked his drink out of a straw.

"What kind of dancing does he do, exactly?!"

Levi cocked an eyebrow, but stayed silent.

"Ballet, mostly!" Armin replied, this comment drawing Levi's ears.

"Really?!" Petra was surprised. "I never would have imagined!"

Neither had Levi.

"Well, not strictly," Armin continued, leaning in so as not to yell. "He does other stuff too."

"'Other stuff.'" Jean muttered, though Levi and Mikasa seemed to have been the only two that heard him, as they'd been the only ones to look his way.

Levi still remained quiet, however. Truth be told, he was having a hard time imaging Eren as a dancer, period. Clearly, he had evidence otherwise, but the sweet, saint-like image he had of Eren was always trailed shortly by what Levi had originally interpreted as dweebish klutziness. Endearing in its own way, but not the same as the Rogue Mask. Yet, as he considered back, he found himself questioning how he'd come to the latter part of his assessment. No, Eren wasn't the most suave in conversation, but the only time Levi had ever seen him physically screw up was the time he'd rammed that disgusting table into his office doorway and broken it. In fact, he'd shown nothing but certainty on his feet during their workouts and while he'd displayed his surfing skills.

So, really, Levi could only assume his understanding had come from his own assumptions based on Eren's sometimes overly flirty, dorkish personality. Which, really, he blamed no one but himself for. Maybe, if he'd paid a little bit closer attention, he'd have noticed similarities between them. Eren could hide his face, but he couldn't hide his body.

Ignoring the conversation, Levi glanced out on the dance floor. Really, that had been the only reason he'd agreed to come to such a revolting place—covered in filth and sweat. Petra had said there'd be dancing, one, and that Eren would be there. Eren, dancing, without a stupid disguise. He'd wanted to see it, if only to prove that it was really true. He knew it was, really, but he had a hard time picturing it.

Yet there Eren was, with Isabel, in complete control of his body. Sweat covered, hair a damp mess, and hips rolling to the music. His feet moved with clipped accuracy, shoulders and arms tense with intention—unlike most of the flailing "dancers" around him. This dancing, though, was different than the purposefully erotic motions the Rogue Mask went through. This was relaxed, despite the discipline, and unplanned. Eren rocked his whole body, hips rolling with sensual ease. It was quieter, but still possessed that… that mesmerizing accuracy that Levi couldn't stop thinking about.

It really was him. Even outside that ridiculous strip club.

How had he not seen it before, obsessed as he was? An extreme oversight, to say the least. He'd been searching out the Rogue Mask's identity for weeks, only to have the answer right under his nose. If he'd just bothered to notice the way Eren drank his coffee, or how he answered the phone. Because he could see the nuance now, as he and Isabel returned after only a short time on the dance floor. How he approached the table; how his fingers were in steady balance as he reached for his drink. His throat bobbed when he put it to his lips, and his sweat cast a familiar sheen over his tanned skin. It was all the same; it was all there. In every move he made, that familiar " _thing_ " that Levi couldn't place, but that had hijacked his attention after one dance. Yet he'd been too busy being infatuated with a persona to notice the real thing.

Petra was right. He was an idiot.

"It's really hot in here!" Eren said, waving his hand in front of his face.

"Well, if you'd sit down for a few minutes," Armin mentioned, laughing.

"I can't be stopped!" Eren said with a grin. "I'm just gonna go outside for a minute, need some cool air!" Pushing off from the table, he spun around and headed toward the door, Levi watching him for only a moment before rising from his seat.

"I need to get out of here too," he said coldly. "Too many gross people."

"You're not leaving already, are you?" Petra frowned.

"Who knows," he said cryptically. "Happy Birthday." He waved to her as he headed after Eren, pushing his way through the crowd and attempting to avoid contact when at all possible. He was thankful when he reached the door, the feeling of the evening air on his face a welcome contrast to the steaming, suffocating air of the club. He was going to smell like axe body spray for the rest of the night.

Glancing around, he quickly located what he'd really been pursuing in the first place.

Eren was standing off to the right, on the sidewalk in front of the crowded parking lot. He had his thumbs in his pockets and was toing at a crack in the concrete. Like a child. Innocent, really, and slumped like someone who had too much on their mind. So perhaps not a child at all.

Making his way over, Levi didn't bother announcing his approach. Eren was far too distracted to notice him, and so he got the pleasure of coming right up beside him. It took a moment, but eventually Eren caught sight of him. Green eyes wide, he jumped in surprise.

"Christ!" he issued. "Will you quit doing that?!"

"You make it so easy," Levi replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked up at Eren out of the corners of his eyes, noticing the way that green gaze blinked before diverting quickly away again, surrounded in blushing skin.

Eren rocked back on his heels, then his toes, and tapped his fingers against his jeans.

Levi frowned. "Quit being so fidgety. It's annoying."

"Sorry…" He became stiffly still, which wasn't really a whole lot better. For a moment, however, the remained silent. Until, finally, Eren took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for something. Which Levi had kind of been expecting.

"Look, uh, I… I'm really sorry. About what happened." He was clearly nervous, and upset, but Levi didn't interrupt. Likely wouldn't do any good. "You were… you were right. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea. And I'm sorry you… had to be involved."

"Quit apologizing," Levi finally reprimanded. "It's pathetic."

This was clearly no comfort to Eren, who was blinking rather rapidly as he crouched down, tracing the concrete with his finger.

"I was being stupid…" Eren murmured.

"You were trying to better your situation. The wrong way, but… it's not like I don't understand." Levi paused, resituating his weight. "Kenny can be very persuasive, and he paints a very pretty picture." One that Levi knew, firsthand, wasn't anything like the truth.

"I don't know why I agreed to it," Eren continued quietly. "I've never… before. I swore I wouldn't, even if… But I…" He took a shaky breath. "I just want you to know that. A lot of… people like me have. But I never did."

Glancing down at him, Levi considered his words before crouching down as well. He didn't speak until Eren found the courage to look up at him, wetness crowding in around his eyes.

"I know that, Eren," he said, tone straight and unadorned. "I don't think any less of you. I've been there, you know that." Whether he wanted him to be aware of such things or not. "You realized your mistake, so… you're already better off than I ever was."

For the first time since they'd met, Levi couldn't hold eye contact. He didn't like that Eren was aware of his past—no one aside from Kenny had known of it before—but he couldn't change it. He wasn't proud of it, and didn't particularly like thinking about it, but pretending it hadn't happened was impossible. No matter how he tried to keep it in the shadows.

"I don't… I don't think any less of you either," Eren said rather quickly, snapping Levi's attention back his way. This time, however, it was Eren staring at the ground. "I don't see you any differently, I mean." Everyone had a past. Eren saw little point in dwelling on such things. "Not that you care or anything…"

"I do care," Levi said steadily, pausing for only a moment. "Thank you, Eren."

That green came back up once again, seeming to search Levi's own expression questioningly. Which Levi found rather amusing. Reaching up, he laid his hand on Eren's shoulder—intending it to be a comforting gesture—and so he was moderately surprised when Eren shied away slightly, glancing back down at the sidewalk.

Levi's hand tightened.

"I also owe you an apology," he started after a moment, Eren daring to look at him again. "I shouldn't have beat the shit out of you." No point in dancing around the subject. "You're weak, like a twig—I should have known you couldn't take it."

Eren laughed, the motion shaking some of the tears from his eyes, which he then wiped away with the heels of his hands.

"Really," Levi continued. "I let my own personal feelings on the matter control my temper. I will never lay an unwanted hand on you again. Well, so long as you don't act like a complete idiot again."

"Ha, okay." Eren sniffed. "I won't act like an idiot again, Sir. I promise."

"I'm not holding my breath."

"Gee, thanks."

"You don't have a very impressive record so far as I've known you."

"Why do I feel like you never thought very highly of me in the first place?"

"Well, if you're already on rock-bottom."

"Ouch, that hurt." Eren placed his hand on his chest.

"Like I said, you're weak. Both in mind and body, apparently."

"Yes, Sir. If you say so, Sir."

"Don't call me 'Sir.' I told you to call me Levi. Besides," he cocked his eyebrow just slightly, "I thought you had a new name for me."

For a moment, Eren didn't appear to understand, but after some seconds of furrowed brows, it visibly dawned on him. His eyes grew wide, his cheeks paled, and his lips parted just a little. Before it was all coated in a thick layer of redness that stretched all the way to the tips of his ears.

More amused than he was letting on, Levi stood. Eren watched him, lips opening and closing as though he were trying to find something to say, but had been struck speechless. When he finally did find his voice, it sputtered out of him gracelessly.

"That- that's not- I wasn't- that's- you were- I just- I didn't mean-"

"Eren! Levi!" They both snapped their attention around to the club entrance, where Isabel was waving at them. "Come back inside! It's not any fun without you to dance with, Eren!" She pouted, Eren blinking stupidly from where he was still crouched on the sidewalk.

"I'm leaving," Levi clarified, Isabel pouting more. "Not really me scene. You two have fun, and tell Petra I left." Stalking down into the parking lot, he headed toward his car, Eren standing to watch him go for some seconds afterward. Eren had raised his hand, as though he would wave, but Levi never looked back.

Frowning, he eventually pulled his eyes from Levi's retreating figure, turning to Isabel just as he'd vanished into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like things are starting to come together, hmmm? Maybe? We shall see ;) PLEASE be sure to leave reviews. I love all the kudos and you're all amazing, but reviews are what really help me with both inspiration and the story--as it tells me what you guys are thinking and understanding too ^-^


	9. Eren says - :(

Pulling on his own finger nervously, Eren stared up at the coffee shop entrance. He gulped, trying to push away his nerves, but it wasn't doing much good. Rather, the longer he stood in the parking lot, the worse it got. Because Levi's Ferrari was parked outside already, which meant he was inside. It was Monday morning, but it'd been week since they'd had coffee together. Since they'd worked out together.

Since Eren had admitted his feelings, and then gone on a continued rampage of idiotic acts. Granted, his conversation with Levi the Saturday before had been somewhat promising, but that didn't mean things could just go back to normal.

They couldn't just act like nothing had happened, could they?

Eren kind of wished they could. That he hadn't told Levi how he felt, that he hadn't gone to meet with Kenny, and that he hadn't offered Levi that free dance at the club. It was a week full of disasters. Those weren't things people just forgot, or ignored. Yet Eren was too scared to bring any of it up himself. Well, mostly the first and last of his exploits. No matter Levi's behavior, he'd still rejected him. He'd still said he didn't feel the same way. Yet he'd accepted that lap dance despite knowing who the Rogue Mask was. It was very confusing, and made Eren a little insecure about what Levi could actually want from him, and  _not_  want.

But he tried not to think too hard on that.

Really, it was like he'd put a temporary bandage over his feelings. A hiatus, one that was likely to burst if Levi rejected his feelings once again. Which was why Eren wanted things to go back to the way they were. When he'd been determined to somehow win Levi over without any certainty on how impossible that was.

Really, he should just ask. Get it out of the way and know the real truth.

Yet, if it wasn't what he wanted to hear…

But he couldn't avoid Levi forever either. One, well, because he needed to work out in the mornings. And, two, because he  _did_  want to see the older man. Even if they were just friends, perpetually.

He could be mature. He could do this. And if Levi had a problem with it, he'd deal with it when it came up.

Huffing, Eren gritted his teeth and marched forward. He didn't give his doubts a chance, pushing his way into the coffee shop even as his heart shot up into his throat. He glanced around quickly, rushed even, and spotted Levi at their usual table. He was sitting back against the chair, cell phone in one hand and coffee in the other. He appeared to be reading something.

There was another cup sitting at the seat across from him, yet still Eren's insecurities plagued him. If he gathered his wits and just went for it, he could smoothly slide into the seat and just be there. But it was so much more difficult than that, and so he wavered just inside the doorway.

"Quit standing there like an idiot and sit down," Levi issued harshly, nearly causing Eren (as well as the barista) to jump. Surprise was quickly followed by relief, however. Shoulders slumping, Eren muttered a silent "oh thank god" before dragging his feet across the shop and sitting down in his regular seat. He wasn't quite sure what flavor coffee Levi had gotten him, and, honestly, he didn't care. He was just glad to be drinking it at all.

"About time you showed up again," Levi muttered, sounding particularly grouchy as he continued staring at his phone. "You owe me a whole week's worth of wasted coffee."

"I never asked you to buy it…" Eren muttered.

"Ungrateful brat."

"What are you looking at?" Eren asked—mostly because Levi very rarely had his phone out when they were having coffee.

"Bullshit."

"That's not very descriptive." Well, hypothetically speaking. "Unless you're, like, really looking at pictures of bull shit." Levi's gaze flicked his way. "I mean, no judgment. Whatever works for you." Eren took another sip of his coffee.

"Watch the attitude," Levi threatened. "I might be forced to fire you."

"You can't do that."

"Don't tempt me." Levi looked back at his phone.

"What are you looking at?" Eren asked again.

"Emails," Levi replied flatly. "From someone I don't like."

"Who?"

"You're awfully nosy."

"I'm just trying to have conversation," Eren droned, slouching in his seat as he trailed his fingers over the edges of his cup, pouting in a rather exaggerated fashion.

"You're such a whiny little bitch," Levi said, quite serious. "It's Hange. Why do you care?"

"Because you're not paying attention to me." It was odd, actually. The kind of balance they had. Because Eren was nervous, but he was also comfortable saying things he wouldn't have dared before. No matter their current situation, he and Levi had been through a lot lately, and Eren felt like he knew the other man a great deal more than he had the week before, whether that was defensible or not.

Levi wasn't impressed with his comment, however, peering at him as he slowly set his phone facedown on the table. "I'm sorry, Your Highness. Do you have something to say?"

Eren pooched his lips. "…No…"

Levi rolled his eyes and picked his phone up again.

Silent, Eren bit on the inside of his cheek, staring at Levi for just a moment before sinking lower in his seat. Without even bothering to think his actions through (a serious problem that he should really work on), he kicked his foot out, satisfied when he knocked Levi square in the shin.

The older man flinched in his seat, immediately snapping his attention to Eren. "Really?"

Eren didn't give him a response.

"How old are you?"

"You know how old I am."

"Well, I'm not convinced."

Eren kicked him again.

"Quit it. You're being obnoxious."

So Eren did it a third time. He didn't get away with it. Instead, well aimed and solid, Levi kicked him back, hitting him right in the leg with much stronger intent than any of the hits previously.

Gasping, Eren stopped himself from crying out by biting his bottom lip. Reaching down under the table, he grabbed his leg and pulled it up, if only to try and cradle the injured area—which only resulted in him banging his knee on the underside of the table. Squeaking, he slowly, far too dramatically, sank sideways, falling down upon the chair beside his own as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

"You said you wouldn't hit me again," he managed to croak out.

"If you weren't an idiot," Levi replied, already refocused on his phone as he took another sip of his coffee.

"You're so mean…" Eren muttered, Levi giving no comment if he'd heard. Eren remained holding his leg beneath the edge of the table, in fine of view of how Levi sat lazily in his chair, as well as his tennis shoes. Not exactly the most interesting scenery, really.

Eventually, once his leg had quit throbbing, he pulled himself back up into sitting. Levi didn't pay him the least bit of attention. In fact, he was typing at his phone, looking far more disgruntled than he had moments before. Supposing he really was working, Eren didn't comment, finally staying quiet as he worked on his coffee. Levi's expression seemed to be continually dropping, however (as much as Levi's expression changed in general), growing more and more irritated by the moment.

Until he finally released a slight sigh.

"I'm going to have to leave," he announced after a moment, Eren's eyebrows spiking as he spoke. "I have to go deal with a fire before Hange does something worse than's already been done."

"Oh, okay," Eren replied, doing all he could not to sound disappointed. After all, it was only one morning. Not like they didn't have the rest of the week. And Levi wouldn't be leaving to avoid him on purpose—he would never do something like that.

Probably.

Taking a final sip of his coffee, Levi put his phone in his pocket before standing. Ignoring his downed mood, Eren toyed with the edge of his own cup, supposing that it wouldn't be so bad to work out on his own again. Not like he hadn't been doing it for years beforehand.

Funny, though, how quickly he'd adapted to having Levi there.

"Hey." Levi was still at the table and Eren flicked his attention up only quickly. "Give me your phone."

The command was odd, but Eren didn't object. Instead, eyebrows furrowed, he slowly pulled it from his pocket before handing it over. Without a word of explanation, Levi began poking away at it, momentarily preoccupied before eventually handing it back. When he did, it was back on the home screen.

"I'll see you later," Levi added lastly, before Eren could ask about the phone. His comment drew the subject elsewhere, Eren latching on to whatever was convenient for the moment.

"Why?" He asked, if only to keep Levi there a little longer. "Your office is cleaned out now." A gentle reminder that they wouldn't be seeing each other during the workday anymore (so maybe Levi shouldn't just up and leave).

The older man was already beginning to turn away. "It's Monday," he said simply. "You work tonight, don't you?" This comment pulled Eren up short, leaving him speechless as Levi walked off. He waved without looking back, Eren not bothering to do the same as he was left alone at the table.

He continued to ponder Levi's words as the Ferrari pulled out of the parking lot, only allowing them to really sink in once the car was out of sight.

In the end, Eren found he was pleased by Levi's implication. In fact, it brought a small smile to his face. It meant his behavior in the club previously hadn't thrown Levi off. And it certified that he'd get to see him later, albeit in a more "unorthodox" fashion. Not matter the circumstance, though, that was all Eren really wanted. He'd take any time he could get with Levi—he'd become that desperate.

He'd put up with the pain of seeing Levi, of being ultimately rejected. He just wanted to spend time with him. That was all.

Despite hopes otherwise, Eren didn't see Levi anytime during the day. Or Armin for that matter (not that they always saw each other). It made the day rather slow and uneventful, Eren stuck at the desk for hours with nothing to do and only moderate entertainment from his coworkers. It wasn't until near five o'clock, just before he had to leave, that something of any interest happened.

He got a text, his phone vibrating in his pant's pocket.

When he saw who it was from (and whose number was now in his phone), he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

_Levi – This is the most ridiculous meeting. Just shoot me now._

Eren didn't waste any time in typing his reply.

_Eren – I don't own a gun, but I'd help if I could._

Clearly, Levi really was fed-up, as it took him all of only a minute to reply.

_Levi – You're a perpetual disappointment._

_Eren – I could pull the fire alarm, but then I'd probably_ be _fired._

_Levi – It's worth the loss._

_Eren – For you, maybe. I need this job._

_Levi – Your lack of self-sacrifice on behalf of your employer is unsatisfactory._

_Eren – You didn't hire me. I've worked here longer than you._

_Levi – I'm tired of working with this stupid-ass kid. He's a self-entitled asshole who thinks he can do whatever he wants because he inherited his father's dumbass company._

_Eren – Is this the same kid that you had to fly to California to see before?_

_Levi – Yes._

_Eren – Sorry, bossman._

_Levi – Don't call me that._

_Eren – Sorry, Mr. Bossman._

_Levi – …_

_Eren – Sir Bossman._

_Levi – I don't even know why I bother talking to you._

_Eren – Intelligent conversation?_

_Levi – You're not doing all that well so far._

_Eren – You know me well enough by now. There must be some reason you keep coming back for more ;)_

_Levi – I suppose I like bossing you around._

_Eren – Kinky._

Eren waited in baited breath after that last comment, wondering if maybe he'd gone too far—if such things were only allowed beneath the dimmed lights of strip clubs. Still, that wasn't how Eren wanted things to be, and so long as Levi didn't reject him outright again, then maybe he'd keep trying. Maybe he'd be that obnoxious flirt that couldn't take a hint.

_Levi – Glad you get just as much joy out of it as I do._

His comment was clearly sarcastic and Eren could practically hear his flat tone upon delivery. It only made him smile wider, and spin some in his chair as he stared down at his phone.

_Eren – I dunno about "joy." My tolerance level has improved, in any case._

_Levi – You simply put up with me, then?_

_Eren – You are my boss ;)_

_Levi – You bring up that fact an awful lot._

_Eren – Well, it's a fact that's hard to ignore when you work out with the Vice CEO of the entire company. I'm just a simple receptionist._

_Levi – Are you developing an inferiority complex over our power difference?_

_Eren – Mmm, no. You may be the one in charge here, but that isn't always the case._

_Levi – And there's a time when you're the one in charge?_

_Eren – Of course. Like I said before, you have to follow my rules sometimes._

Eren knew the conversation was getting a little too close. Or so he feared. He wasn't sure how long Levi was going to keep flirting back. Because that was what they were doing, right? That was what Eren was doing, in any case. But Levi was so difficult to read, he was never quite sure. And texting made it even more difficult to really understand what was happening.

_Levi – We'll see._

A response that Eren had no idea what to do with. It could be suggestive, but it could also be Levi's way of ending the conversation. Eren almost wanted to keep pushing, to see how far he could go, but irritating Levi wasn't something he was all that intent on either. He didn't seem the type that would appreciate continual teasing past a certain point. And Eren wasn't exactly sure where the point was.

It was probably safer to let that topic dissolve there. Besides, it was time to leave anyway. Maybe that was how he'd finish it.

_Eren – Whatever you say. I have to go though. Dance practice._

_Levi – No one is making you practice._

_Eren – I have to keep up my form! Self-discipline! Huah!_

_Levi – Fine. Go. I'll sit in this meeting for another two hours, miserable and bored._

_Eren – Sorry. I really do need to practice though. I was kind of lazy about it last week :/_

_Levi – Lame._

_Eren – Just think of better things :D_

Levi didn't offer another reply following, Eren waiting only a minute before stuffing his phone in his pocket and heading out. He didn't take the lack of response personally—Levi was in a meeting and it wasn't like he could text and drive his motorcycle at the same time.

Besides, Eren might be a flirt, but he also knew how to tease. Better for Levi to think he was doing something more important than waiting for his every text—even if Eren did keep his phone close by while he practiced, just in case. His phone never buzzed, however. Which was pretty typical, really. And so when evening rolled around—after he'd stopped to have dinner—he headed to work, far more upbeat about the prospect than usual.

"You're looking a lot better today than you did last week," Reiner said as Eren sat down on his stool. The blonde was sitting backward in the one beside him. It was kind of a relief, actually. To be back into the normal swing of things. Even if the only reason that was possible was because Eren was ignoring everything else.

"Everybody has their off days," was all Eren offered in response, his thoughts preoccupied with what he should wear for his sets. He wondered, fleetingly, what Levi would like most to see him in, but pushed the thought away just as quickly. Maybe Levi wasn't there only for him. Besides, he couldn't possibly know such things without asking.

Except, now he  _could_  ask.

For a moment, Eren's hand hovered over his phone, which he'd set on the counter in front of his mirror. He wasn't sure if he dared do it, his body seeming jittery at the mere thought. But, then again, Levi had said he'd see him there, and he  _knew_ Eren was the Rogue Mask. There was no getting around that. He also knew that Eren had feelings for him, which would defend any suggestive flirting that Levi let him get away with. Really, it was Levi's fault for not dissuading him, right?

No, this was getting to be too much. Eren could feel it in the way his heart beat fast, and how his legs jittered. He'd already been rejected—he had to keep reminding himself of that. Yet still he hoped; still he let his feelings carry him away. He needed to stop. But he couldn't.

Why did he fall like this? Why was he willingly putting himself in a position to be hurt all over again? Because it'd only be the same the second time around, maybe even worse.

Yet his gut told him to go for it. He had to be brave. If he chickened out, then he'd never get anywhere. That was how he'd always faced life's obstacles, right? Sometimes it got him into bad situations, but other times it didn't.

He couldn't win if he didn't take any risks.

Pushing through, he grabbed his phone before taking it with him to his wardrobe. There were certain things the boys all shared and certain things they didn't, the more delicate pieces being the ones they had personally. Looking through his section of the hangers, he picked out two potential candidates. One was a shimmery silver thong, the other a black jockstrap. Both would go under whatever costume he chose, but that was hardly the point. Holding up his phone, he took photos of both while they were still on their hangers before setting up the picture message.

Biting his lip, he typed "Which do you think I'd look better in?" into the message box before closing his eyes and hitting the send button.

As if to somehow hide from his own actions, he shoved his phone into his bag and distracted himself at his station, afraid for some moments to so much as look at his phone, even after it'd buzzed at him.

Eventually, though, he couldn't take it anymore and he dove to retrieve it. Heart beating in his ears, he read the message with gritted teeth.

_Levi – The second one is awfully nostalgic._

That was it. That was all he'd said. Which, really, came as somewhat of a relief to Eren. It could have been a lot worse, or so he kept telling himself.

Supposing that would do, he didn't bother with a reply, instead going and retrieving the jockstrap as he began putting the rest of his costume together. He went for something simple, yet a theme Levi would be familiar with nonetheless. No feathers, no glitter. Just a pair of drop-crotch sweat pants, his high-top tennis shoes, a tank top, and sweatshirt. Plus his expected mask, which was simply black and covered his nose and around his eyes.

Remind Levi of what he'd missed that morning.

Such attire required a more masculine performance, which Eren had ready to deliver as he headed out on stage. The lights were hard to see beyond, as usual, but as he easily allowed his body to carry him into the right formations, he was able to peer out into the crowd. The music was loud, and the cheering even more so, but none of it could distract him from his true intent.

Not that it took him long to locate what he was looking for. Levi always sat in the same place, with the same intense stare. It was earlier than when he sometimes showed up, but he was there, and Eren had to have a mental reminder that he was supposed to be playing the part of a masculine athlete so as to stop himself from smiling like an idiot.

He was particularly satisfied when he got to the portion of his set when he finally ripped the pants away, in nothing but the aforementioned jockstrap. He was always careful with such attire, however. Part of his allure was to keep just enough covered to want people asking for more. Besides, an in-depth look at his backside wasn't what some of the viewers were really there to see. He remained much more focused on what was still covered, therefore, and left what might seem obvious more to the imagination. He wasn't full-nudity, after all. And even if he was, there were certain things it was more appropriate to show off than others, odd as that may be.

He left the performance feeling even more energized than when he'd started—much more akin to usual than he had been the last week. Bounding into the dressing room, he spun once in his chair before grabbing for his phone.

No messages.

He frowned, only momentarily allowing the setback to unsettle him. Shaking free of the negativity, he dropped his phone back into his bag before tapping his fingers on the counter. He had time—all the time he wanted, actually. Maybe he should make the most of it.

Springing into a stand, he remained in only his mask and jockstrap as he headed for the door that lead out into the rest of the club. It was pretty expected, actually, that most of the strippers would step down after their shows to mingle with the patrons. Good advertising, for one, and to take people in the back if they were interested. Eren was usually exempt from such things, and had never even been on the main floor during working hours. Like other things, it added to his image.

But he could flout that once in a while, he figured. The regulars might be surprised, but it wasn't as though it was every man or woman there that he was going to be giving any extra attention to. Just one.

He got a few surprised looks from some of the waiters and other strippers about as he stepped out into the open. He was still in the back of the club, so it wasn't as though everyone was looking at him, but a few of the customers clapped, to whom he offered a quick bow before moving on. Most appeared too surprised to make any comment, which suited him just fine.

Thankful for the dim lighting, he sidled up to the back booth where Levi always sat, giving himself only a moment to gather his wits before sliding onto the bench beside him.

Silver flicked up quickly, Eren smiling as he twined his fingers together atop the table.

With a single eyebrow cocked, Levi closed his book, folding his own hands over each other on the tabletop.

"How many books have you managed to get through since you started coming here?" Eren asked after a moment, a sense of intended sensuality in his voice. Because he wasn't Eren then, not really. He was the Rogue Mask—a difference that was important to note.

"Some," Levi replied easily.

"Do you read during all the acts except mine, or do you have a few that catch your attention?" Eren leaned in a little closer to him, but not too far. Restraint could be a very powerful weapon.

"I only lend my focus to the best, if that answers your question."

"My, what a compliment." Eren was still smiling, though the look was far more dangerous than what he usually let cross his face. "Never settle for less, then?"

"Never."

"So, you come here only for me?" Really, a much more important question than Eren was hinting at. And he hoped to any god that existed that Levi would give him a straight answer.

"Are you the best at what you do?"

"I like to think so." At least, as far as that particular club.

"Then I suppose you have your answer."

To say that Eren was exceptionally pleased would be a bit of an understatement. It took a generous amount of his self-control not to turn to a pile of giddy mush right on the spot. Such behavior would be extremely unbecoming of his current persona, after all, and probably break whatever spell that allowed them to act this way.

"I'm flattered," Eren managed to reply, despite how his brain buzzed. "Do you intend to keep coming back to see me?"

"That depends," Levi said, voice as straight as ever. "What am I going to get out of it?"

"Aren't my performances enough?"

"Maybe they would have been, had you not implied that there was something better the last time I was here." The lap dance.

"That was a one-time opportunity." Eren held up a single finger, leaning away just a bit—as if to reiterate his point. "Too much of a good thing isn't healthy, you know."

"The same could be said for too little."

Eren looked away, sighing rather dramatically. As if he were considering something of the greatest importance. Levi watched him the whole time, stare heavy, and eventually Eren was drawn back to it.

"I might be able to arrange something," he decided, tone quiet. "So long as you promise to follow all the rules."

Levi's stare seemed to darken then, Eren taking in a quick, silent breath when he reached a hand forward. Slowly, he dragged the knuckle of a single finger from Eren's wrist to his elbow, sending shivers down his whole body.

"I don't like your rules," Levi murmured.

Eren was only moderately successful in keeping his breathing steady. "Which ones?"

"Specifically that last one," he replied, hand coming up just shy of brushing Eren's upper arm before he gently pulled his knuckles along the bottom of his jaw. Eren's breath did catch then, blood pumping in his ears.

"Unfortunately, the rules aren't mine to change," Eren muttered, aware of his own breathlessness and unable to do anything about it.

"I'm sure there are ways we could get around them," Levi continued, Eren quite unaware of the way he'd been inching closer to the older man. As if those barely there touches were reeling him in.

He was so beyond himself, it was wonder he even remembered he was still in the club. Because those silver eyes were so piercing, and he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"What do you suggest?"

Levi's eyes crinkled just slightly at the corners, Eren knowing full well that such small movement meant more than it appeared—whether it was a smile or something else. He wondered what it was, wanted to asked what Levi really thought, but was too afraid to ask. Instead, he'd wait. He'd try and make something of whatever Levi wanted to do.

"So long as we're not here, then there aren't any rules to follow," Levi explained, voice hardly fluctuating as he did. "Of course, that would be up to you." He'd taken hold of a strand of Eren's hair, gently pulling it between his fingers.

"Where would we go?" Eren's voice was barely a whisper, so close that it warmed Levi's cheek.

"My place isn't too far."

"And… what would we do when we got there?" Was Eren's thigh against Levi's?

"Oh, I think we could come up with  _something_."

Eren's hair was twirled in Levi's fingers, holding him steady as only a sliver of air was allowed between their noses.

And maybe they'd have crossed a line, continued on, had the crowd not erupted so loudly at the climax of the show on stage. Starting, Eren blinked, holding eye contact with Levi for just a moment longer before finally pulling back. His hair slipped easily from Levi's hold, the heat that had been between them vacuumed out as reality slammed rather harshly back. Abruptly, Eren was aware of everything around him, every eye and every body, and of how exposed he was despite that being his job. He tried to pull it together, to be a professional, but he knew he was blushing, even as Levi remained completely unfazed. Hopefully, his mask hid any traces of such flustered behavior.

Straightening some, Eren tried to regain his composure.

"I have to go back to work," he said, his voice somewhat guarded despite how he tried to fight it. Mostly because he wasn't entirely sure what to make of Levi's suggestion. Was he being serious? And if he was, what did that mean? Was it all part of this little game they'd been playing or…?

"I look forward to it." Levi's confidence wasn't the least bit shaken, that was obvious. Rather, he watched Eren the whole time as he stood and headed back toward the curtain, no doubt as straight-faced and intent as always.

Eren, on the other hand, didn't feel any kind of relief from the pressure until he could collapse down onto his stool again. He hadn't realized he was shaking until he'd gotten there, his hand on the counter as he tried to steady himself.

Between his legs, his blood pumped far too heavily to allow for any sense of real calm. Instead, he was jumpy and jittery, and excited despite himself. Yet he couldn't find the nerve to text Levi and ask for clarification. Were they really going to leave after hours and go to his place? Was that a real plan? And if so, was that something Eren wanted to do?

Because he wanted to, really. But he wasn't sure if what he "wanted" and what Levi "wanted" were the same thing. Levi had rejected him, yet he'd always been at the club. For a moment, Eren was shot cold with the idea that maybe this was all Levi wanted out of him. The physical part, but nothing else. It was an idea that didn't sit well with Eren—he didn't want to be used. And he didn't like to entertain the idea that Levi would do that. Especially knowing the other man's history.

Maybe this game was getting dangerous. It was fun, but perhaps it was finally going too far.

"Eren! You're up in five!" Ymir's voice jolted him into action—he didn't normally have to be reminded of such things. Yet, no matter the distraction, he was continually plagued by both anticipation as well as doubt. And it left him feeling quite as though he was between a rock and a hard place.

Even as the night wore on, he found he was only growing more and more uncertain about what was happening. Yet he wasn't completely ready to simply give up on the offer either.

Because he wanted Levi. Wanted him so badly that it kept him up at night. Even if it didn't mean anything, perhaps he should go for it anyway.

It might be the only chance he got, though it'd likely end with his heart stomped out at his feet.

Again.

Only worse, because he might get to really live in those dreams for just a little while. Pretend he meant something more than he likely actually did.

Because Levi was far out of his league. He was a stripper, for crying out loud. He had no education, no prospects. He should be thankful Levi talked to him at all, let alone everything else he did.

He was so confused…

Normally, Eren didn't dread the end of his shift. He didn't necessarily look forward to it, but he'd never felt the need to drag his feet either. Yet, as the hours ticked by, he only grew more anxious. So anxious, in fact, that, for the first time since he'd started working, he actually fell off a pole. Thankfully, he hadn't been very high up, but it'd left the crowd gasping and he knew he'd have a ripe bruise on his hip the next day. Thankfully, it'd been his last set, so he could let his injury stiffen with an ice pack and not have to worry about performing again.

"You sure you're alright?" Ymir was asking for the second time. She was standing beside his stool, Eren nodding after having already explained that it was nothing serious and not worth putting in an injury report about. Around him, everyone was packing up, the club silent as it'd closed up only minutes before.

"Man, that was a pretty nasty fall though," Reiner said as he walked by, slapping Eren on the shoulder. "Had to happen sooner or later I guess." Eren turned to glare at him, but it hardly did any good.

"If it is worse than you're thinking," Ymir pulled his attention back, "then make sure you tell me."

"Sure thing." Eren nodded. Taking that as good enough, Ymir turned and headed back to her office. Thankful to finally be alone, Eren slowly began packing up his own things, slower due to having to hold the icepack to his hip. As a result, he was the last one to leave, his sweats on and bag slung over his shoulder.

He was still unsure about what he was supposed to do.

Having been ignoring his phone, he was quite oblivious as to whether he'd gotten any texts. And, quite frankly, he was too afraid to look. Rather, he was leaving it a mystery. If he headed out and his bike was alone in the parking lot, he'd have an easy answer. However, if Levi's Ferrari was there… well, he'd make the decision when he was forced to.

Leaving it at that, he went to the side door, hand holding the railing as he limped down the concrete steps. To be frank, he wasn't sure he was up for any strenuous activity anyway. His hip was already stiff and soon he was probably just going to want to lie in bed with a bag of ice. He should be able to stretch it out enough by Wednesday, but it was going to be rough that night.

As it were, Eren wasn't always the most attentive. In fact, one of his strengths was being able to multitask, but this didn't always leave him with razor sharp focus. And he was more often than not even worse off when there was a lot on his mind. Which was probably why he hadn't heard the footsteps coming out from behind the dumpster, instead only faltering in his steps once he'd spotted the unfamiliar figure.

"Can I help you?" he asked, the man before him of generous height. He was muscular, had tanned skin, shaggy black hair, and was watching Eren a little too intently to be considered comfortable.

"You're the Rogue Mask," he said simply.

"That's work," Eren said carefully, abruptly aware of how alone he was in the side ally. And that the only way out was behind this stranger—the other way was a dead end. "The Rogue Mask only exists during working hours. So no, I'm not the Rogue Mask." He was a real person, not his job. Or anything that his job might imply.

"But you are… the Rogue Mask."

"Can I help you with something?" Eren asked again, his tone growing sharper. Inside his bag, his phone buzzed, but he hardly heard it.

"I'm a regular, at the club," the man continued, Eren only further disconcerted by how wide his eyes were and how dilated his pupils appeared. "I watch you… all the time."

"Thanks…" Eren muttered, not feeling the least bit complimented. "I'm… gonna go home now though, alright?"

"I never have much money to tip you with." Yet the stranger continued. "I know that, but I've always watched you. Ever since you started working here."

"Um…"

"You've never come off stage before," he went on, fumbling his hands together as he did. "Who was that man you went to see?"

Eren was kind of beginning to see what this was about. Clearly, this man admired him a great deal. And he was either super unstable or high off of something. No matter, he was probably dangerous and Eren wasn't sure he was willing to deal with some kind of misplaced sense of offended jealousy.

"That… was a personal friend," Eren tried to explain, careful to keep his voice calm. He'd dealt with his mother enough times to know that getting excited never helped the situation.

"You've never come off stage for anyone. I've asked, but you never have. Who was that man?"

"He's a friend of mine, that's all," Eren said. "We work together, at my other job. He was just coming to give me my phone. I'd left it earlier today." Make it seem as innocent as possible, if he could.

"That man comes every night that you're here," the stranger objected, Eren pursing his lips. "I know. I see him. I'm here too. I don't have as much money as he does, but I've been here longer."

"Look," Eren held out his hands, trying to keep the man from coming any closer even as he stepped back himself. His phone buzzed again. "I'm grateful, really, that you've been such a huge supporter. And it's okay that you can't tip very well. We've all got our own struggles to deal with. I'm thankful that you come."

"I've been here since you started…"

"That's… awesome to hear. And, like I said, that man is a personal friend. Otherwise I never would have come off stage to speak with him. But that's all it is, I promise. You're still my number-one fan."

"Really?" The stranger took a step forward, causing Eren's eyes to widen as he moved back once again.

"Of course." Eren nodded, gulping. "But this is something that we shouldn't be talking about outside of work, okay? I have to go home, and you should go home too."

"I'm so glad I got to talk to you." It was as if he was only hearing what he wanted to hear and nothing else. Which, Eren knew, was even worse. "I've been wanting to talk to you for so long."

"That's wonderful. I-"

"You're the most beautiful boy I've ever seen." This was not good. This was definitely  _not_  good. "I know I don't have much to offer you—it's hard for me to get work. But I'd be good to you. I'd treat you good."

"That's… very nice." Eren said, gulping and ignoring the chill that was slinking down his spine. "But I have a strict rule against getting involved with fans. I appreciate the offer, but I'm going to-"

"But I'm your biggest fan!" He took another step forward, gesturing outward as he did, and Eren actually stumbled back. "I'd do good by you, I really would. You wouldn't have to work here anymore. With everyone watching you. I'd appreciate you. Like you deserve to be."

"That's sounds very nice," Eren said, voice somewhat shaky. "But I can't. I'm quite alright doing this. It doesn't bother me."

"It's because I don't have any money, isn't it?" he asked, his tone deepening some—growing hostile. "You're with that other man, aren't you? He doesn't deserve you! He's hardly been coming to see you, not like I always have!"

"I'm not with him, okay?" Eren said hastily. "And, you know what, if you just… give me a minute," he'd reached into his bag, thankful when he managed to locate his phone (which was buzzing yet again), "I'll let my roommates know that I'm going to be late and we can go somewhere and talk about this, okay?" He held up his phone, as if to further plead his case, before daring to try and use it.

"Don't do that! Don't do that!" Eren tried to get out of the way, but the man's flailing movements toward him knocked him off balance and he staggered. "Don't call anyone!" The phone was violently knocked out of his hands, send skidding across the asphalt and into the wall of the building nearby. In the same moment, a large hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, making it impossible to pull himself free.

"You call someone and the police will come. They always come!"

"You need to let me go!" Eren said, giving up on trying to be nice. His voice rang out angrily, forcefully even, but it didn't seem to make a difference. The hold on him only grew tighter. He struggled, even managed to land his fist into the guy's neck. But the man didn't even flinch, and soon both his wrists were restrained.

Eren always fought, however. He wouldn't go limp and he wouldn't give up. The man was strong, and much bigger than he was, but it didn't make a difference in the end.

"Please, don't be angry with me! Don't be angry!"

"Let me go!" Eren yelled, growling as he tried to kick out. His hits didn't even seem to be registering.

"Don't yell!"

"Get off of me!"

"Stop yelling! Please! Someone will hear you!"

"Let me go right now!"

"I said  _stop yelling_!"

Eren wasn't sure what happened. One moment he'd been struggling, about ready to bite if he had to, and the next his head felt like it was going to crack open, splinter and explode apart all around him. The wind had whipped by and there was a stinging pull in his neck. He gasped, flailing for a moment before he realized he wasn't actually drowning. His head was simply spinning, throbbing with pain as he tried to blink away the dizziness.

"I'm sorry!" A foggy voice was saying above him, Eren's attempts to clear his vision failing painfully. There was something in his eyes, something dripping into them, but he couldn't pull his hands up to wipe it away. It was like every bit of his energy had been zapped away, leaving him nauseated and lying atop the dirty asphalt.

"Please, don't be angry. It was an accident! I'll take care of you!" There were hands on him, Eren knew that. And though he wanted to throw them away, to get up and run, he couldn't. His head felt like a weight that was pulling him under water, and though he tried to blink, he couldn't clear his vision. It hurt to even try, and so he was motionless even as he floundered inside his own body.

His skin crawled with fear, his heart choking with it.

"It was an accident!" That voice again, though not so loud this time. Above Eren still, but more distant. "Please, he'll be alright. He just needs-"

Eren was still trying to blink it all away, his fingers straining to move if only to wipe whatever it was that was streaking across his face. If he could do that, then he could see what was happening. He could try and do something. Yet he couldn't, and panic was settling in.

"Eren!" There were hands on him again. One tightened around his arm, the other, he could tell, was holding the side of his face. He tried to move—he had to get away! "So help me, Eren, if you're dead." The words were dangerous, but familiar, and there were fingers pressing into the side of his neck.

The voice was different, though. Eren knew that voice.

"Levi?" Finally, something. Something he could latch on to. Not movement, or even his vision, but being able to speak was better than nothing at all—though his voice was rough and choked. "I can't see!" he started, the panic finally beginning to materialize inside him. "I can't see anything!"

"You've got blood in your eyes," Levi said straight, his strict tone more comforting than anything else could have been in that moment. Eren mentally grappled for it, holding into whatever reality he could get. "You've cut your forehead." There was fabric on his face, wiping at his eyes. "You need to get to the hospital."

"Levi, I-"

"Keep your eyes closed."

Finally, as if being able to get something back—his voice—would lead him on, Eren strung his focus along to other things. He forced his fingers to move, to twitch out until his hand was grasping for the arm that held his own. He sank his nails in, trembling as he was. Panicked and shocked, yet he searched for an anchor.

"Hold this on your forehead," Levi commanded, the fabric now pressed higher. Up near Eren's hairline. Taking hold of the hand that Eren had finally managed to grip with, Levi removed it from his arm before placing it forcefully on the cloth, pushing down hard enough that the pain caused Eren's eyes to flutter open.

His vision was still cloudy, and pained, but he could see. Silver eyes framed by sharply cut black hair stared down at him, hardly visible before the darkness that waited behind. Shadows, everywhere, but Eren stayed focused on that stare. He had to.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Levi was saying, Eren doing his best to push back on the nausea even as he felt as though the world was tipping out from under him. "You need stitches. A lot of them." There were strong arms reaching under him, pulling him up. Eren tried to steady himself as a matter of habit, as the ground tumbled out from under him, but only ended up being able to twitch his arm against Levi's chest.

"There was a man," he croaked out after a moment. "There was-"

"I took care of him," Levi replied shortly, his words doing little to comfort Eren.

"What did you do? What did-"

"I knocked him out. Calm down."

They were moving, Eren could tell as the glow from the streetlights faded in and out around him, the stars in-between. Soon he was able to make out Levi's rushed footsteps, and the traffic from the nearby highway.

"Wh-what happened?"

"He threw you into the railing," Levi explained. "You cut your forehead on the edge. I'm putting you in the car." Eren wasn't sure how Levi managed to get the door open, but soon he was being gently set atop the familiar passenger seat of the silver Ferrari. His neck twinged as he was forced to sit up straight, and the ache from the wound on his head was beginning to throb. Badly enough that his vision was blurring again.

Blood continued to drip down his face and he shakily tried to wipe it away with his free hand, the other pushing more severely on cloth.

"Did you hurt your neck?" Levi asked from the driver's side.

"I don't know," Eren replied, unable to see the way Levi was frowning.

"I'd put the seat back if I could," but his seats didn't recline. "Don't strain your neck and keep that jacket on the wound. We're not that far from the hospital."

Eren didn't bother nodding, instead putting his focus on trying to quell the blood that was escaping the dampened jacket he was holding up. He could taste it on his lips and teeth, and feel the way it was drying on his neck. There was a lot of it, that much he could gather, which only made him more panicked than he already was.

"Is it really bad?" He asked suddenly, as Levi was pulling the car out into the street.

"I don't know," Levi replied honestly. "I didn't get a good look at it." His voice was oddly guarded, even for him, and Eren glanced over as best he could without moving his head. There wasn't much light, but he could see the street lamps through the windows as they rushed by—much faster than usual. Levi was speeding, his hands tight on the wheel as he stared blankly out the window. His lips were pursed, his focus almost too intent, even for him.

It didn't make Eren feel any better. Not that there was anything he could do. The sight of the street outside was making him dizzy, his arm growing tired from holding the cloth against his forehead. He wanted to lean his head back against the seat, but he couldn't do so without shooting pains going through his neck.

His energy was draining fast, especially with him having to support himself. Despite how he tried to stay strong, the world started to roll, causing him to lose control of his equilibrium.

He could see the dashboard coming up fast, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

It was Levi, who'd reached out quickly, that kept him from collision. His hand grabbed at his chest, pushing him back and remaining in place even when Eren was once again upright.

Fingers twisted into his shirt, ready to catch him should he fall off balance yet again.

"I should have called an ambulance," Levi said after a moment, his voice almost growling. "I shouldn't have moved you."

Eren didn't have the strength to reply.

Or even the will to stay conscious. There were flashes—Levi saying his name, being taken from the car. White walls and faces he didn't know. A tight pain in his head before there was no pain at all. Voices—words around him that he couldn't understand. And then… nothing.

Which was what had startled him the most. The silence.

Gasping, he blinked, breathing hard as he glanced around the room. Fluorescent lights, white walls, counters stacked with jars and boxes. Unadorned cabinets, a blue curtain where there should have been a door.

And one man.

"Don't get up," Levi commanded sternly from where he was standing beside the bed.

"What happened?"

"You're in the hospital."

"Yeah, but…" Eren was looking around again, resting back on the bed as Levi had instructed. Abruptly, he remembered his head and tried to reach up for it. To his surprise, however, his hand was caught.

Held, rather, in Levi's own. Warm, if not a little stiff.

Stupidly, Eren looked from his hand back up to Levi.

"You were so scared of the stitches, you made me," Levi explained simply. "You weren't totally coherent, but it calmed you down some." Nodding, Eren accepted the explanation, supposing it sounded reasonable enough. He didn't release Levi's hand, not even then, and was thankful when no comment was made. Especially when he gripped it tighter.

He reached up toward his forehead with his other hand.

"Don't do that," Levi reprimanded, smacking his hand back. "Idiot."

"Is it bad?"

"It's disgusting."

"Really?!"

"But the doctor said it should heal fine," he continued. "Apparently, that railing was sharp enough that the cut was pretty clean. If you take care of it properly, it shouldn't leave a scar."

"They didn't shave my head, did they?" Eren reached up again, which spurred Levi to smack his hand away as he had before.

"No. Your hobo-hair is fine." Pause. "But they want to do a CT scan to make sure your head's still working right, if it ever was. And a scan of your spine, the upper part."

"The upper part?"

"Your neck."

"Do they think something is really wrong with it?"

"I don't know, dumbass. I'm a corporate CEO, not a doctor."

Eren grinned despite himself, the expression feeling tired and taught. "Sure thing, Bones."

"You're an idiot."

"And you're actually a  _vice_  CEO."

"Details. How is it you're laying there with a broken head and still managing to flirt with me?"

Eren kept smiling. "It's my default setting."

"You flirt with everyone when you're injured?" Levi cocked a single eyebrow.

Eren, on the other hand, had to actually pause to consider the question. "Actually… I think I do." He frowned. "Armin told me I said quite a few inappropriate things to him when I came out of anesthesia for my wisdom teeth."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"I'd flirt with you anyway though." Eren smiled again. Because, well, why not? Levi already knew how he felt, as it were. What was stopping him? Levi certainly wasn't, as he'd finally realized. And Eren was a little too exhausted to be overthinking things, even if he should have been.

"As I'm well aware," Levi replied. "I'm going to go get the nurse. They wanted to get more of your personal information once you were fully conscious." Finally slipping his hand from Eren's, he headed out past the curtain. There was silence once again, Eren taking a deep breath as he held his hand up for personal examination—the one that had previously been held in Levi's. He eventually ended up frowning, probably as a result of his brain beginning to drag up more pertinent issues. Which really only resulted in more questions.

"Someone should be back soon," Levi explained as he returned. Nodding, Eren made no comment, fiddling with his own fingers as Levi took a seat in the chair beside the bed. He said nothing, instead crossing his arms over his chest as he stared blankly at he wall.

"Can you tell me… what happened, exactly?" Eren asked after a moment, staring down at his lap as he did.

"I heard you yelling, so I came to see why," he started, keeping things simple. He didn't look at Eren as he spoke. "I saw that guy throw you into the railing, so I knocked him out and took you to the hospital."

"Oh…"

"Did you know that man? I didn't call the police. I didn't know if you'd want me to." Not with his job, and the reputation that came with it. Things were always messier with that kind of lifestyle and, odds were, the cops wouldn't care much anyway.

"I didn't know him." Eren shook his head. "He was… a fan from the club, I guess. He was jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Of you." Eren glanced over, catching Levi's stare. "I'd never come off the stage for anyone before," with the exception of the lap dance previously, "and I guess some of the regulars noticed." Eren's attention fell back to his hands in his lap.

Levi didn't respond, instead returning his focus to the wall. Almost too intensely, or so Eren noticed when the silence spurred him to look up again. He didn't know what was going through Levi's head, as usual, but he wanted to know. He always wanted to know.

"Levi…?" No response. "Are you… Are you alright?" Because something was off. He couldn't place exactly what, but there was something in Levi's demeanor that was out of the ordinary. Maybe it was the stiffness of his posture. For all his cold and deadpan speech, he wasn't usually so rigid.

The question didn't garner a response right away, Levi's lips visibly pursing. And after a moment, Eren thought he likely wasn't going to answer. Yet, just as he was about to focus back down on his lap, Levi took a deep breath.

"For a moment," he started, Eren's eye flicking back up, "after you collapsed…" He wasn't looking at Eren as he spoke, the tone even and chilled. "I thought you were dead."

Gulping, Eren bit his bottom lip, fingers fiddling with the sheet over his legs.

"You didn't move at all, and the way you were leaning against the bricks…" Levi shook his head, if only just vaguely. "I thought for sure your neck was broken." Plus, the blood, but that hardly needed to be brought up. "I shouldn't have moved you," he continued. "But I panicked. I'm sorry."

"That was you panicking?" Eren offered up a small smile. "I couldn't tell." He'd tried to lighten the situation, but his attempt at a joke didn't go over as it usually did. Levi didn't give him that impatient, sarcastically amused eye. He didn't look at him at all, actually.

So Eren decided on another strategy. "You don't have anything to be sorry for," he said quietly. "If you hadn't been there, that guy… I don't know where I'd be now."

Still, nothing.

"You saved me, again," he finished.

"If you'd quit getting into these kinds of situations." He hadn't expected Levi's tone to be scolding, and he almost shied away from it. "I won't always be around to clean up your mess."

"I'm sorry…"

Levi took a deep breath. "No, don't be. It wasn't your fault." Even if it did frustrate Levi to no end. Between being harassed by strangers on the beach, to Kenny, to this. At such a rate, Levi wasn't ever going to feel comfortable leaving him alone. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

There was a pause in their conversation, Eren trying to come up with something to say. What eventually rolled out of his mouth wasn't what he'd expected, but, then, still wasn't all that surprising either.

"I was going to you," he admitted. He'd been uncertain at the time, plagued by questions about Levi's intentions. But if he'd been able to walk out into that parking lot, and seen Levi there, he'd have gone with him. He'd have gone  _home_  with him. And he wouldn't have allowed himself to regret it, no matter what it'd meant. "I just… wanted you to know that." Why, he couldn't tell. Perhaps he was feeling as though a chance had been robbed of him—an opportunity he might never get again.

Levi had glanced over at him then, though Eren couldn't meet his eyes. He tried not to blush, but knew he was failing. Not that Levi hadn't seen him in worse states.

He didn't notice that Levi was reaching out to him until there was a hand on his own. One that was oddly gentle—like the times Levi had rubbed his back or held his shoulder in attempts to comfort him. Looking up, Eren watched as his hand was lightly pulled from his lap, fingers folding over fingers as his knuckles were pressed to Levi's lips. The motion caused Eren's breath to catch, his heart to jolt, and his voice to fail.

It wasn't a kiss. That kind of intention was lacking. Rather, it was more as though Levi were simply wanting to verify he was actually there. The breath from his nose warmed Eren's knuckles, and the lips that were pressed to his skin were soft, if not pursed. Levi's eyes were closed, and he held Eren's hand there, silent and offering no explanation.

Eren didn't know what to do, so he did nothing. He simply watched, eventually allowing his shoulders to drop and his nerves to relax. A small, easy smile pulled at his lips, one without joy or excitement. Acceptance maybe, of whatever it was Levi was trying to tell him. Even if it couldn't be totally understood.

They were spared having to find justification to eventually pull away. The nurse walked in some moments after Levi had taken Eren's hand, which spurred them to silently separate. Saying nothing, Levi remained in the chair beside Eren's bed, listening as details such as date of birth and medical history were relayed. They eventually got around to what had happened, which Levi had refused to explain previously. Eren didn't tell the truth. He told them he'd fallen and hit his head on the edge of a stage. The nurse didn't ask what kind of stage.

Following the questions, the nurse explained that she'd take him back for his CT scans. Normally, it'd be something scheduled out of emergency, but the doctors didn't want to send him home until they were certain about his neck. Which meant he was going to be there even longer.

"Armin and Mikasa are going to be worried," Eren said as he pushed his legs over the side of the bed. He'd been speaking more to himself than anyone. "And I don't have my phone."

"I have Armin's number," Levi replied, since it was fair to assume that Eren didn't have it memorized.

"And then they're going to want to come here," Eren sighed, "but I can't not call them." And there was no stopping Mikasa. It didn't matter what he said, odds were, she'd be busting aside that curtain in twenty minutes flat. "Ugh, and all my stuff…" Finally, reality was beginning to sink in. "And my bike…"

"I'll write down Armin's number and you can call him when you get back," Levi decided, the nurse listening in all the while. "I'll go get your stuff. Just go home."

"But, what if…?" What if that guy was still there? And how was he going to get his bike?

"Don't worry about it," Levi said simply, standing and scrawling the number on a sheet of paper he'd pulled from the counter, where there'd also been a pen. "Just call Armin. Go home. I'll take care of everything else." His certainty silenced any further objection Eren could have had. That, and the way he reached out.

At first, Eren could have sworn those fingers were going to slide along his jaw, or maybe his cheek. And he was totally down for that. But at the last moment, Levi's hand fell to his shoulder, albeit rather close to his neck, and squeezed just barely before he was walking toward the curtain. The gesture came off as excessively "bro-ish," which left Eren in a state of confused longing as Levi vanished outside his little room.

Because one moment they were flirting and the next Eren was getting the cold shoulder. Or so it seemed. And maybe, had his night been a little less exciting, he'd have curled up in a blanket and grumbled until there was a dark cloud above his head. As it were, he couldn't. His head hurt, his hip was sore, and he still had a few hours of sleepless waiting and explaining ahead of him.

It wasn't how he'd wanted to spend the wee hours of the morning, and he had to practically drag himself into standing to go get the CT scan.

Mikasa and Armin (and horse-face Jean) did eventually show up, spurring a bout of drama from Mikasa wanting to know what the hell he'd been getting himself into lately. Not wanting to worry them, Eren lied once more. No, he told mostly Mikasa, his injuries weren't the result of another fight. He'd fallen from a pole and smacked his head on the edge of the stage. And no, she didn't need to kill anyone. He could tell they didn't totally buy it, but he was too tired by the time he was in Armin's car to really care. It was near four in the morning and all of them had to work bright and early.

Assuming Levi would understand, Eren had skipped out on their coffee and workout, instead aiming to get another hour of sleep. Despite the efforts, he'd still woken up with a raging headache, enflamed stitches that he had to treat, and a limp that wouldn't loosen no matter how he tried to stretch it. Thankfully, his bike was back in the drive (much to his roommate's curiosity) with his bag and phone sitting on the seat. Armin had refused to let him take himself to work, however, and so the two had carpooled.

It wasn't until Eren was at his desk a few minutes before eight that he even thought to check his phone.

He had three texts from the night before, all from Levi.

_Levi – You really do like to keep me waiting, don't you?_

_Levi – Your bike is here. Where are you?_

_Levi – You're starting to piss me off._

Eren couldn't help smiling at the texts, despite what had happened the night before. He was somewhat disappointed, however, that there hadn't been any since. Nothing asking if he was alright, or berating him for missing their morning routine. It was going on a week and two days since they'd had any early hours together, a loss which Eren was mourning in greater stretches.

His fingers were just hovering over his phone, as he was considering sending a message to Levi first, when Armin came up beside the receptionists' desk.

"Hey, sorry," he said, his blonde bob a little fluffed, as though he'd been rushing. "Here are the car keys. I have to catch a flight to Chicago in forty-five minutes." He had a suitcase with him and was wearing a different suit than he had been earlier, meaning he'd already been home and back again.

"O-okay," Eren replied, taking the keys despite his questions. But Armin wasn't one to leave without explanation.

"I have a cab waiting outside. Levi flew out early this morning and I'm meeting up with him. I already texted Mikasa. We should be flying back in Friday afternoon."

"Friday?" Eren balked.

"Yeah." Armin rolled his eyes. "No one else was happy about it either."

"Guess I wasn't invited this time, huh?" Eren played off like he was joking, even if he was growing more and more disappointed by the second.

"Levi didn't say anything about it." Armin shrugged. "I should go though." He'd glanced down at his watch. "I'll see you later. And don't eat all the apple jam while I'm gone. I know you ate it straight out with a spoon last time. And make sure you put that ointment on your forehead. And don't work at night if you're still feeling bad."

"Thanks, mom," Eren replied, Armin rolling his eyes. Suitcase pulled along behind him, he waved once as he headed out, Eren returning the gesture despite it not being seen.

Once Armin was gone, he sank back in his chair with a pouting frown on his face.

Levi was probably still on a plane, but he pulled up his phone and sent him a message anyway.

It was short, and simple

_Eren – :(_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eren. And Levi. And everything. Ugh, would they just do something already? Damn. Also, please leave reviews if you can guys. Really, I read every single one and appreciate it more than you know :D


	10. Puns Aren't That Funny. Pls Stahp.

"Cut the crap, Eren. I know there's something going on." Mikasa had had enough. Eren could tell by the flashing look in her dark eyes. That, and the fact that she'd cornered him as soon as he'd gotten home. He was sitting on the couch with their shared laptop, silent as she towered over him. She had her hands on her hips and there was a severe line cut between her lips. "Now tell me."

"There's nothing," he defended, trying to look appropriately cowed. Because, really, his words weren't a total lie. As far as him and Levi, there was nothing more than there ever was (technically). And as far as everything else, it wasn't so much "something going on" as it was "something that happened."

"You're in for it now!" Jean shouted from the kitchen. "She's been grumbling about you since she got home!"

Eren ignored him.

"Then give me a straight answer," she demanded. "What really happened last week? And what happened last night?"

Really, Eren was getting a little irritated. He knew Mikasa was overprotective, but his business was still his business. "It's like I said," he countered, beginning to bristle. "I got into a fight and then I fell off a pole."

"Fight with who?" she persisted.

"I don't know! Some random guy!"

"Where were you?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because it happened in the middle of the day when you were supposed to be working. Armin told me you never came in. What were you doing?"

Eren pursed his lips. He really didn't want to keep lying, especially since covering this up was going to result in an  _actual_  lie. He'd have to make up some kind of story, and he wasn't sure he was willing to go that far. But he wasn't willing to give out the truth either.

"It doesn't matter, Mikasa," he replied, slumping some in his seat. "I got in a fight because I was being stupid, alright? Can we just never talk about it again? Please?"

"Why won't you tell me what really happened?"

"Because it was my own fault, okay?! I was being an idiot! I screwed up and got what I deserved! No offense, but I'd rather not relive the experience by telling everyone about it. Quit worrying—it's not gonna happen again." His tone had dwindled by the end of his explanation, his fingers moving the screen of the laptop back and forth as he stared at the keyboard.

Above him, Mikasa held steady for a few more seconds before, like a balloon, her entire posture deflated. Her hands fell to her sides and her sharp expression fizzled down to her typical look of disinterest, even if that wasn't what she was really feeling.

"And you really fell yesterday?" she asked.

"Yeah. You can call Ymir and ask if you're really that worried about it," he muttered. "Everyone saw it." It was probably the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him in the club, and that was saying a lot seeing as he spent a majority of his time there nearly naked. Granted, he hadn't actually banged his head, but he was pretty sure Mikasa wasn't actually going to call his boss, so he wasn't too worried. Granted, she could be pushy, but she wasn't exactly the sneaky type.

Seemingly giving in, she sat down on the couch bedside him, Eren still poking uselessly at the computer while Jean threw dinner together.

"You're really not doing anything dangerous?"

"C'mon Mikasa," he said with a slight smile, rolling his eyes. "Like I could get away with doing anything dangerous. I can't even keep myself from getting hurt doing what I'm already doing."

"I worry about you sometimes, working at that club."

"Don't." He'd told her the same thing many, many times. "It's as safe as any other job." Usually. "And Ymir keeps us all 'protected.' Really, you don't have anything to worry about." He was probably safer working there than as a waiter at a bar or something. There were very strict rules and anyone who broke them were swiftly turned out. "What happened last night was a freak accident. Sometimes I get overly confident." Or rarely overly nervous.  _Or_  attacked by creepy stalkers.

"Really?"

"Really. Besides, you don't need to be worrying about me." He cast her a fully-fledged smile. "You're carrying Jean's mutant spawn now. That horse head might be hard to push out."

"I heard that!" Jean.

"I'm barely two months. There's hardly anything to worry about." She wasn't even showing, really. She might have looked like she had a bit of a belly, but only people who really knew her would recognize such a change.

"You guys picked out any names yet?"

"No," Mikasa said as she leaned back against the couch. "We probably should start thinking about it, though."

"Yeah, probably." Eren laughed. "And, like, where's the Jean-spawn gonna sleep?" Because they didn't have any extra rooms.

"We  _have_  been talking about that," Jean said as he entered, balancing three plates of steaming food on his arms (he'd worked as a waiter all through college). He handed one first to Mikasa before then giving Eren his and sitting down in the chair across from them.

"Oh yeah…?" Eren hadn't failed to notice the heavy weight that had settled on the air, or how Mikasa had become stiffly defensive.

"We haven't made any decisions," she said flatly.

"But we're going to have to," Jean persisted, as though this conversation had come up on numerous occasions. "They'll both understand."

Eren knew where this was going. He'd kind of been wondering when the subject would come up. Having all of them under one roof was fun, and perfect for people just out of college or working, but it wasn't exactly conducive to raising a family. Granted, neither Eren nor Armin would mind having a baby in the house, but, even if Mikasa didn't agree, Eren could see why Jean might want to organize things differently.

"You guys wanting to move out?" Eren asked straight. "Or… you wanting me and Armin to move out?"

"We would never ask you to do that," Jean explained, his brows knitted together almost sadly. Because, for all their disagreements and insults, he and Eren were friends. Good friends. "But it's not something that you and Armin should have to put up with. Kids are great, but it's not like it's only a few months of crying and things will go back to normal. It's gonna change everything. And you need your sleep, we all know that, and Armin's going to be going back for a higher degree soon, so he doesn't need to deal with it either. Besides, it's not like we'd go that far."

"I don't want to go far," Mikasa said flatly.

"There are a few houses just up the street we've been looking at," Jean said, giving Mikasa a hard look. "Not any different than where we are now."

"You guys don't need to do that," Eren interjected, having closed the laptop in order to focus on his food. "All the houses on the street are the same. You might as well stay here. It'd be less hassle for me and Armin to find our own place." Even if they had only recently moved in.

"Eren…" Mikasa wanted to object.

"Don't worry about it." He smiled, believing completely in what he was saying. "It's all part of growing up or whatever. Not like we could live together forever." The look on Mikasa's face clearly hinted that she disagreed. "Besides, this place is starting to get a little too domestic for me." Not true at all, but he could pretend.

"We're not asking you two to move out," Jean made perfectly clear.

"Good, because we won't do it because you asked." Eren felt fully confident in speaking for Armin. "Really, it's fine you guys. You deserve to have a familiar place to start your family. It's not going to be easy anyway. Don't make it worse for yourselves." He couldn't imagine that getting ready for a baby and looking for a new house, as well as moving, would be somehow less stressful. "Give the kid my room. It's bigger, and has a lot of nice windows." It was on a corner.

"Armin's room is closer to our room," Jean corrected. "Besides, your room has horrible insulation problems." Which was saying a lot when considering they lived in Los Vegas.

Eren frowned. "I never complain."

"That's because you live in a heat bubble that would kill any of the rest of us. You're room is either way, way too hot," because the air conditioning got our, "or too cold." Mostly during the winter nights. "Armin's is much easier to climate control."

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you." Eren had narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I figured there was a chance you two would volunteer to leave." Jean shrugged, despite the fact that Armin had yet to weigh in on the matter. "Just covering all my bases."

Eren rolled his eyes, and would have offered a nasty rebuke had he not been distracted. His phone (which had a nice crack in it after last night) buzzed in his pocket, his nerves shooting up even as he quickly reached to get it.

Unfortunately, it wasn't who he'd wanted it to be.

**Armin – Just landed. It's so cold here, omg.**

**Eren – It's gonna get colder D: WE'VE BEEN KICKED OUT!**

Overly dramatic, sure, and not really true, but it got the point across.

**Armin – I wondered when that would happen, lol. They better put the baby in my room. Your room sux.**

Eren gaped, Mikasa and Jean having moved on to Netflix when it'd become clear the conversation was over.

**Eren – Why is everybody hatin' on my room? I like my room :(**

**Armin – Because not everyone is their own space heater. So are we going to move out together then, or…?**

**Eren – Might as well. You and me, Armin, trailblazing on our own!**

**Armin – Can we trail blaze closer to work? I wouldn't mind saving on gas.**

**Eren – That's not very exciting…**

**Armin – Well, working for Levi is a lot more labor-intensive. I'd like to be closer. It's good work experience, but driving half an hour there and back gets a little old.**

Especially when he had to do it more than once a day.

**Armin – Besides, not like it wouldn't be more convenient for both of your jobs.**

**Eren – Yeah, I guess.**

There was a slight pause before Eren dared ask his next question.

**Eren – Are you with Levi?**

**Armin – Yeah. He actually swung by after his meeting to pick me up at the airport. Why? Should I tell him you're asking about him ;)**

**Eren – NO! I was just wondering… :/**

_Levi – What do you want, brat? I'm busy._

Eren sighed before typing back to Armin.

**Eren – Really…? -_-**

**Armin – I just told him you wanted to know why you weren't invited.**

**Eren –** _**Really** _ **?! -_- -_- -_-**

_Eren to Levi – I didn't ask that. He's full of shit. Don't trust him._

_Levi – Good. I have no intention of giving you impromptu vacations every time I go anywhere._

_Eren to Levi – I could be a pretty good stress-reliever ;)_

_Levi – All you've done since I met you is add more stress to my life._

_Eren to Levi – Rude :(_

**Armin – What are you two talking about?**

**Eren to Armin – You really want to know ;)**

**Armin – … Do I?**

**Eren to Armin – He's actually just being mean to me :'(**

_Levi – How's your head?_

_Eren to Levi – This conversation is so funny, it's got me stitches! HAHAHA!_

_Levi – You're an idiot._

**Armin – Omg, really, what are you talking about? You are talking to him, right? I think I heard him** _**laugh** _ **.**

**Eren to Armin – Like… Like a real laugh? Or like that huffy, one-noted, "hmph" thing he does?**

_Eren to Levi – You know I'm hilarious. Armin said you laughed._

**Armin – Uh, the second one.**

**Eren to Armin – That's not a laugh. That's what disdain sounds like.**

_Levi – Armin's deductive reasoning skills must be off. Maybe I should fire him._

**Armin – What's going on between you two?**

_Eren to Levi – Maybe you should just laugh at my jokes because they're awesome._

**Eren to Armin – Nothing. We're just friends.**

_Levi – You never answered my question._

**Armin – Yeah, right. That's what they all say.**

_Eren to Levi – Oh, don't worry, I'll go a_ head  _and answer it now :DDDDDD_

**Eren to Armin – Who all says? What are they saying? o.O**

_Levi – You should be ashamed of yourself._

**Armin – You're not funny. Seriously. He's my boss. I deserve to know.**

_Eren to Levi – Why? Because I'm a_ head _of the game? Because my humor_ cracks  _you up? Because you're_ falling down _laughing since I'm sooooo funny?_

**Eren to Armin – Seriously, nothing is going on. And why would the fact that he's your boss mean anything anyway?**

_Levi – I hate you._

**Armin – It's my job to know everything about him .**

_Eren to Levi – Are you sure you aren't_ head _over heels for me? Omg, I'm so good._

**Eren to Armin – Well, you're really not doing a very good job then.**

_Levi – …_

**Armin – !**

"Eren, what are you doing?" Jean jolted him from his phone. "Seriously, I went to all that effort to feed you and you're letting it get cold." Which was true—the cold part, anyway. Supposing it was fine to momentarily leave both conversations, Eren put his phone down and started eating again. He got a kind of indulgent satisfaction when his phone kept buzzing and he refused to reply. They could both wait. He was clearly very, very busy.

Well, until he really did get busy. It was his turn to wash the dishes and after watching an hour's worth of Netflix, and spending twenty minutes in the kitchen, he still hadn't answered. Just for good measure, he gave himself another hour to take a shower and do related things, only looking at his phone again when he was laid back in bed with a pillow at his back and an ice pack on his hip.

He was sourly disappointed when all four messages were from Armin.

**Armin – Seriously, dude, c'mon.**

**Armin – We're best friends!**

**Armin – Did something happen between you two last week?**

**Armin – You know I won't say anything… :(**

Shoulders slumping, Eren typed back a reply before dropping his phone to the side of his pillow.

**Eren to Armin – Seriously. There's nothing going on. I'd tell you if there was :(**

He really had nothing to tell. Nothing concrete, anyway. Even with what had been going on at the club, he wasn't sure what to think. But, it did seem that Levi was actually reciprocating his advances. Well, maybe that was a bit of a strong word. He wasn't asking that Eren stop being inappropriate, in any case. Which could either mean he was putting up with Eren because he didn't want to hurt his feelings (which seemed unlikely) or was actually enjoying the attention. If it was the second one that was true, Eren was stuck asking "why?"

His phone buzzed. Picking it up, he half-expected that it would be Armin again. His eyes bugged when it wasn't, a smile stretching his lips far too quickly.

_Levi – I've only been here one day and I'm bored._

_Eren – Are you usually not bored in Vegas?_

_Levi – I'm not usually snowed into a hotel, in any case._

_Eren – That sounds horrifying. Snow is the devil's work._

_Levi – And you've spent enough time in the snow to know?_

_Eren – Actually, no. I've never even seen snow in real life, haha._

_Levi – It's not something to get excited about._

_Eren – I'll just stay here in Vegas, safe and warm and not freezing, kthx._

_Levi – I'd rather be there._

_Eren – I'd rather you were here too ;)_

_Levi – Is this the part where I'm supposed to ask what you're wearing?_

_Eren – That's inappropriate, Mr. Ackerman. I'm offended._

_Levi – Why? What_ are _you wearing?_

_Eren – It'd be too much for you. I wouldn't want to tease ;)_

_Levi – Yeah, right._

_Eren – BUT! If you insist!_

_Levi – I really don't._

Holding out his phone, Eren pulled up his good leg, managing to snap a picture before sending it on its way. He tacked on a winky face in the caption.

_Levi – Rubber duck pajama pants. Why am I not surprised?_

_Eren – And that's only on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I wear Lord of the Rings pants. And on Thursday,_ Star Trek _!_

_Levi – Beam me up, Scotty._

_Eren – That was actually never said in the show :(_

_Levi – I've honestly never watched a single episode._

_Eren – WHAT?! That's terrible. We should Netflix and chill sometime ;) Wait… Don't tell me you've never seen Star Wars either._

_Levi – Hasn't exactly been on my priority list._

_Eren – O.O I'm so sorry. Like, really._

_Levi – I didn't realize you were such a nerd._

_Eren – This is a cultural issue. That's it. First date. We're marathoning Star Wars._

_Levi – First date?_

_Eren – Yup! Screw Netflix and chill. This is a problem of epic proportions._

_Levi – Is that another one of your puns?_

_Eren – What? Screw? With Netflix and chill? Haha! I am brilliant ;)_

_Levi – Not the descriptor I'd use._

_Eren – But for real, like, you HAVE to see Star Wars. There's no excuse._

_Levi – You never give up, do you?_

_Eren – If I really want something? Never! :DDDDD Unless… Should I give up?_

Eren practically winced as he asked, on the verge of dropping his phone and shoving it under his pillow. Rather, the only thing that stopped him was that horror story about a smartphone catching on fire as a result of such actions. Which, he supposed, might be a pretty good metaphor for his current situation.

He was slightly unnerved by how long those ellipses remained on his screen, but they never blinked out, so he supposed that was something. The response he eventually got, however, was surprisingly short.

_Levi – Why would you?_

_Eren – Because you already rejected me once._

The answer came much faster than he expected, and he'd sent it before he could stop. But perhaps it was better to finally get to the root of the problem. Granted, it could end badly, like it had the first time, but he wanted to know.

He  _needed_  to know.

Those ellipses were back again, waving up and down as he waited for an answer. It was only a few moments, but to Eren it seemed like an eternity. He'd been working up to this conversation for days, the weight of it feeling as though it was crushing his shoulders.

Levi's reply was even far less satisfactory than Eren would have expected.

_Levi – I did._

It was actually quite frustrating, Eren's eyebrows furrowing as he glared down at his phone. It didn't seem like he was asking much when it came to what they were discussing, yet it was like pulling teeth. Of the two of them, he was the one putting himself out there, baring it all. The least Levi could do was be straight with him. Eren liked to flirt, but he didn't like to play games—not the kinds of games that had potential to end badly, in any case.

_Eren – Yeah. You did._

He could be difficult too. It wasn't fair to always been on the lower end—the losing end. If Levi wanted this too, then he was going to have to say so.

_Levi – Have I not made what I want clear enough?_

_Eren – No._

_Levi – What more do you want to know?_

The question only made Eren angry. He didn't want to be angry, because that meant things weren't going the way he preferred. And that Levi wasn't justifying his actions in a fashion that got them anywhere—if he  _wanted_  them to get anywhere.

_Eren – I won't be used._

_Levi – You think I'm using you?_

_Eren – I don't know, are you?_

_Levi – For what, exactly? What do you have that I could possibly want?_

_Eren – You know. Don't act like you don't._

_Levi – Enlighten me._

_Eren – I'm not stupid._

_Levi – I never said you were._

_Eren – Why won't you answer the question?_

_Levi – What do you want me to say?_

Eren growled.

_Eren – I'm not my job._

There was a long pause then, before Eren saw those ellipses again.

_Levi – Are you really suggesting what I think you are?_

A question Eren didn't quite know how to answer. Not that he had much time to think on it.

_Levi – After everything you've learned about me?_

More of those ellipses.

_Levi – I know you're not the "Rogue Mask." Are you implying that I think otherwise?_

_Eren – You rejected me before you knew, didn't you? And now what?_

_Levi – What does it matter?_

_Eren – You've been watching me at the club for weeks. You were interested in the Rogue Mask, but not me. That's what matters._

Levi's response was long in coming then, Eren's chest twisting as every second ticked by. And, for once, he was "rewarded" with a long message.

 _Levi – So what if I was? I like watching you. And I'm not ashamed to admit I was sexually attracted to you. Did I reject "Eren" because I was preoccupied with the "Rogue Mask?" Yes, I did. I wanted to fuck the living daylights out of you. I'd still like to. Whether that was plausible or not doesn't matter. I wasn't feeling particularly interested in anyone else as a result. However, I_ am _offended that you'd suggest I would use your feelings for me to get that._

Eren had to read the message multiple times before he understood it. Despite its bluntness, however, he found that he still had very little idea of how to comprehend it.

_Eren – What else am I supposed to think? I'm a stripper! A lot of people want to fuck me! Last night is a prime example! That doesn't mean someone cares about who I really am!_

_Levi – Are you seriously comparing me to the asshole that attacked you last night? While I'll admit I've beat the shit out of you myself, I wasn't aware you were lumping us into the same category._

_Eren – I don't want to. I just want to know if I should be!_

_Levi – I don't know, Eren. Should you be? Because clearly all I want from you is sex._

_Eren – Are you seriously being sarcastic right now?_

_Levi – Am I?_

_Eren – I don't understand why you can't just give me a straight answer!_

_Levi – And I don't understand why I should have to. I go with you for coffee, we work out together. I secured your mother's living situation. I trusted you with my personal possessions and understanding of my OCD when we went to California. I threatened the assholes who were harassing you. I tried to protect you from Kenny at that dumbass company party. And that was all before knowing about your other job. Yet you're accusing me of abusing your feelings to get sex? Fuck you, Eren._

There were tears streaking down Eren's cheeks halfway through the message, quite unbeknownst to him. Even what he was typing was coming out without much forethought, running on frustration, hurt, and defensive passion.

 _Eren – You didn't have any interest in me until after you knew! I don't want to be seen as something I'm not and if you're not attracted to me when I'm not the Rogue Mask, then you're not attracted to_ me _!_

_Levi – You might not be the Rogue Mask, but the Rogue Mask is you. As far as I'm concerned, being attracted to the Rogue Mask means I'm attracted to you. Just because I was too preoccupied to figure it out doesn't make that somehow less true._

_Eren – It means you want to fuck me when I'm wearing a mask and you don't when I'm not!_

_Levi – No, Eren. It means that if I did fuck you while you were wearing a mask, I'd probably like to have coffee with you the next morning, like always, instead of kicking you out as a one night stand._ That's _the difference._

Eren's fingers were shaking as he typed, and his vision was cloudy, but he kept going anyway. Even if he probably shouldn't have.

_Eren – I guess I have my answer then._

_Levi – What answer?_

_Eren – That you don't want anything more from me than sex._

_Levi – Is that really what you got from that?_

_Eren – Was I supposed to get something else?_

_Levi – If that's what you're bound and determined to believe, then I guess not. Don't fucking text me anymore._

"Fine!" Eren actually shouted, not caring whether Levi could hear him or not. In a fit of temper, he lost control—as he'd been prone to doing as a child—and threw his phone across the room. It hit the wall with crack before slamming to the ground. Too frustrated to care, he grabbed his thin bed sheet and pulled it up over his head. Burying his face in his pillow, he closed his eyes and pretended like it didn't hurt as bad as it did.

**oOo**

"You know, it'd probably be easier on us all if you tried to act like you were kind of in a good mood," Hange lectured as they walked from the high-end hotel where they'd been having their meetings with Douche-Who-Inherited-All-His-Father's-Assets. Normally, they wouldn't fly across the entire country to meet with one lowly asshole, but Dumb-Shit-Kid had to go to a "concert" there and Erwin needed to close on some deals with  _other_  companies concerning  _this_  company by the end of the week.

So there they fucking were.

"I'm  _not_  in a good mood," Levi replied, his tone a little nastier than usual. One, because he'd just gotten out of a meeting with Just-Hit-Puberty-Douchenozzle, and, two, because other dumbass brats were being idiots and he was in motherfucking Chicago when he should be beating the shit out of someone.

"Which puts everyone else in a bad mood," Hange grumbled, shivering as she high-stepped her way through the snow—like a cat that had never been in the stuff before.

"Uh, Sir…" Armin asked tentatively, aware of the angry glares he'd been getting from his boss all day. "Should I make… dinner reservations?"

"No," Levi said straight. "I'm going back to my room."

"We were going to go uptown to eat," Erwin interjected, not the least bit fazed by Levi's attitude. "You sure you don't want to come?"

"Yes. Armin will go."

"I will?" the blonde asked.

"You want to eat, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

"Well, I don't plan on it tonight, so go with them and quit bothering me."

"Yes, Sir."

"Seriously Levi, you're being an asshole to everyone," Hange said quite seriously.

"Good." Not bothering on any better a response, Levi climbed into the last cab waiting in front of the hotel, closing the door after and making it clear he didn't want anyone else with him. Giving out his hotel information, he slumped in the back seat as they headed out, unconsciously picking the dirt from under his fingernails.

Even in the constantly horrendous weather, they weren't far. The drive took all of fifteen minutes and Levi paid the cabby without a word before heading up to his top floor suite. Dropping his suitcase at the door, he shucked his jacket off and laid it on the table near the door.

Loosening his tie as he went, he abandoned his shoes haphazardly before going to the bathroom. He didn't turn on the light—he didn't want to look at it. Instead, he did what he needed to in the dark before coming back out and plopping down on the couch. For a moment, he sat and did nothing. But he knew that couldn't last. Eventually, his focus was drawn back to his nails. Middle left, he could see a vague line under the nail that wasn't clean.

Snapping up, he went to his suitcase in the master bedroom, flipped it open, and took the fingernail clippers from the small pocket near the corner. Twisting out the nail filer, he carefully took the pointed end and slowly slid it beneath his nail.

Still, though, the slight mark remained.

Eyes narrowing, Levi pushed the filer under again, pressing into the skin this time. He scraped at the mark, determined to break it free despite any pain doing so might cause.

He couldn't tell if he'd gotten the filth. There was blood crowding up under his nail before he could.

Swearing, he dropped the nail clippers and returned to the bathroom. He had to flip on the lights this time, so he made sure to zero his attention in on the sink. That way, he'd only see part of the problem. Turning the knob, he stuck his bloodied finger under the cold water, watching for only a moment as the blood ran down the drain.

Soap. He'd need soap. Water wasn't going to make the red stain wash away.

Grabbing the bar that was sitting at the corner of the sink, he took it and scrubbed it into the tip of his finger, into the edge of his nail. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

Water still running, he held his finger up to the light. That line was still there, even worse now as it was enflamed and stained dark brown with the blood the soap—which didn't even have the right to be called as much—couldn't wash away.

If he trimmed the nail back far enough, he might be able to uncover it. Or he'd just start bleeding again.

He'd think about it.

In the meantime, this bathroom was unacceptable. He couldn't be expected to shower in it. He'd avoided doing so that morning, but his hair was beginning to feel like a greasy mop on top of his head. Yet, he knew perfectly well that the staff hadn't cleaned it as well as they should have, if they'd cleaned it at all. The sink was proof enough of that.

Pulling the shower curtain aside, Levi peered down into the tub. Soap marks on the drain, water splash-back on the knobs. There was a single, short gray hair in the far corner.

Nope.

Heading back to the bedroom, he reached into his suitcase again. Rubber gloves, sponge, facemask, personal formula of chemical cleaner. Going back to the bathroom, he rolled up his sleeves, got down on his hands a knees, and started to spray. Once there was a thick layer of formula foaming across the whole tub, he took his sponge and started to scrub.

He scrubbed the whole thing, then rinsed it down. He repeated the process twice more just for good measure.

By the time he was done, he had a headache from the fumes, but felt like it was probably fine to bathe in. After all, what would have been the point if the shower was dirty to begin with? Ignoring the toilet and the sink—though they'd probably get to him before the week was over—he returned to the bedroom and picked up the nail clippers he'd dropped previously. His skin was soft and slightly red, probably from the scrubbing, but that didn't mean he couldn't focus back on that blood line.

Focus narrowed, he was just about to start clipping when his phone buzzed.

Shoulders dropping, he sighed. Heading out to where he'd left his jacket, his fished his phone out of the pocket before looking at the message.

**Petra – Heya! What are you doin' this weekend :D**

**Levi – Nothing.**

**Petra – You should come over here for another barbeque! I'm inviting everyone!**

**Levi – Why would that make it any more appealing?**

**Petra – I'm gonna invite Eren :3**

Scowling, Levi felt his finger itching, but forcefully ignored it.

**Levi – Why would that make me any more inclined to go?**

**Petra – Oh come on! Give the boy a chance! He clearly likes** _**you** _ **! I could tell by the way he was looking at you at the club. God knows why, though.**

**Levi – What's that supposed to mean?**

**Petra – It means you don't exactly make it easy. Are you still hung up on that stripper?**

**Levi – No.**

**Petra – See? Now's your chance :b**

**Levi – He's not my type.**

**Petra – Why not?**

**Levi – Well, he's an idiot, for one.**

**Petra – Oh Christ, Levi, you're going to be alone for the rest of your life.**

**Levi – Gee, thanks.**

**Petra – You do it to yourself. There's a pretty, doe-eyed boy who sees the moon when he looks at you and you're too busy being all prickly to give him a chance. Like I said, it's amazing he even managed to like you in the first place.**

**Levi – So you keep saying.**

**Petra – Don't act like you don't know why . It's half the reason I worry so much about you. You're so intimidating and grouchy, no one's going to ever be brave enough to approach you. That's why** _**you** _ **have to do it. I doubt Eren would get up the guts.**

**Levi – He seems like the type that could be pretty forward.**

**Petra – Maybe so, but you can't expect him to. C'mon, Levi, that's not fair.**

**Levi – Why not?**

**Petra – Because you're you! You're rich and smart and important, and he's just a receptionist.**

And a stripper, but Levi didn't type as much.

**Petra – If I hadn't been forced to work with you, there's no way I ever would have had the guts to talk to you, let alone ask you out on a date. You're a scary guy!**

**Levi – Then he should nut up.**

**Petra – You're being kind of a dick about this :(**

**Levi – Excuse me?**

**Petra – I'm serious. You're not even giving him a chance. As far as relationship balance, you're the one with the power. He probably can't even imagine that you'd be interested in him. He probably doesn't even think you really know he exists. He'd have to be pretty brave to even consider asking you out. Like I said, you're intimidating. So you have to be the one to make the first move.**

Part of Levi wanted to tell her she was wrong. That she was seriously underestimating Eren's capacity for dumbassery, but didn't. Rather, he found himself stuck on something else.

**Levi – You really think that's how he feels when he looks at me?**

**Petra – Yeah. Why wouldn't he? You're his boss. Like, his BIG boss. That kind of a power difference is a big deal.**

"Goddammit." Phone dropping to his side, Levi stared at the wall for a moment, considering Petra's words. The longer he did, the harder it was to shake the feeling that he'd fucked something up. He didn't like it when he messed things up, but sometimes shit happened and he was afraid this might have been one of those times.

Meaning, his argument with Eren. Truth be told, he hadn't even considered the situation from Petra's perspective (Eren's perspective?). It'd seemed pretty clear to him what he wanted, the fact that Eren had failed to see as much being a fault on his part, not Levi's. He wouldn't lie to himself—he'd been bothered by Eren's accusations. Hurt, even. No, Eren didn't have any intimate details about his past, but he was well aware enough. Or so Levi had thought. Once upon a time, he hadn't been so different from Eren himself, and the idea that he would somehow take advantage of such a situation for selfish reasons had irked him considerably. Even more so that Eren would fathom such a possibility.

Yes, he'd wanted to get the Rogue Mask "into bed," so to speak, but he'd never utilized underhanded means to do so. And he'd never  _considered_  doing so. That Eren had turned out to be the Rogue Mask had not only been a surprise, but what Levi had considered a win-win. He got the Rogue Mask and Eren. No, he hadn't been romantically interested in Eren before, but not because he hadn't liked the kid. He'd just been focused elsewhere. Which, really, he hadn't ever considered to be a bad thing (as Petra had seemed to assume). Sex didn't have to mean anything, and he wasn't a bad person for acknowledging that.

He'd learned a lot of things the hard way, even if others hadn't been through anything similar enough to consider where he was coming from.

But perhaps he'd been hypocritically guilty of the same mindset.

He knew what it was like to be used, to be viewed as an object instead of a human being. Most people did, though perhaps not as acutely as individuals like himself or Eren. It was a fact of their current culture, be that for good or bad. Levi was as guilty of indulging as anyone else, and probably more willing to admit to it.

Even so, there was something he'd missed. He'd been relating to Eren on the same level when, perhaps, he shouldn't have. How many times had his job been brought up between them? His position? Enough times that Levi should have known, whether Eren admitted it or not, that the kid was intimidated by him.

Levi wasn't used to being in a position of power. He wasn't sure he'd ever be. It was nice, sure, but as far as the rest of his life, he'd only recently been able to adopt such a lifestyle—and by recent, he meant less than the last ten years.

But that wasn't how Eren saw things. Whether Levi had a past or not wasn't the point. He was the powerful one. The one paying Eren's tips when he went to see him. The one that had pulled money out of nowhere to help his mother, even if Levi hadn't considered it any kind of hassle. Things that hovered over Eren's head that Levi hadn't considered twice. Perhaps it hadn't been so unreasonable that Eren had wanted to address the subject directly. If their situations had been switched, Levi would have likely wanted the same thing. He knew that from experience.

Yet his offended sentiments and skewed notion of their relationship had allowed him to miss that. Once he'd learned Eren was the Rogue Mask, he'd thought things between them would be easy. He hadn't paused to consider Eren's own insecurities, and the implications those would put in his stupid, broken head.

Sighing, Levi slouched some against the wall, further disheartened when he realized that  _he'd_  have to be the one to take action.

He'd have to apologize.

He hated apologizing.

But it wasn't fair to expect Eren to come to him again—not after he'd done so numerous times already. Granted, he wouldn't put it past the kid to do so, but it seemed like kind of an asshole move to wait and see. Besides, he owed him, really. As far as Eren was concerned, he'd been rejected twice.

And there was always the chance that Eren  _wouldn't_  pursue him again, which didn't sit well with Levi, clearly. Granted, Eren was obviously determined, but that wouldn't last forever. He'd give up at some point.

Looking back down at his phone, he saw that Petra had texted him again. He continued to ignore it, instead pulling up his messages with Eren from the night before. He pursed his lips at the last things he'd sent, surprisingly hurt that Eren hadn't gone against his order and texted him again. But, really, he'd done it to himself. Eren's attentions were numerous, but that didn't make them any less a luxury.

Might as well get it over with.

_Levi to Eren – I'm sorry._

He waited a few minutes, simply staring at his phone, until his impatience caught up with him.

_Levi to Eren – You're probably ignoring me. I suppose I don't blame you. But I don't apologize if I don't mean it—I really am sorry. I let my personal feelings get in the way, as I seem to be doing a considerable amount recently. For that, I also apologize. I'm not accustomed to being the "powerful man" everyone seems to see. I made a mistake in assuming you related to me the same way I do you, especially since finding out about your job at the club. It didn't occur to me that you'd imagine what you've made so blatantly clear, but you're not wrong for having done so. I've been there, even if that's hard for you to imagine. And I would never use your situation to take advantage of you. I was under the impression that we were both on the same page, which was my mistake. No, I don't want you just for sex. It's difficult for me to relate to others, but I never had much issue with you. I've always been fond of you, Eren. And I wouldn't jeopardize our friendship unless I wanted something more. I didn't mean that I simply wanted us to stay as we are, when we were texting last, though I now understand that's what you took away from the conversation. I wasn't implying that we sleep together and act as if nothing had happened. Contraire, I was only meaning that if we did, I'd like to continue to spend more time with you._

_Levi to Eren – Again, I am sorry. I blame myself for any pain this misunderstanding caused you. I didn't mean to hurt you. Forgive me._

No matter the truth of it, such a message still had Levi on edge. And like he had before, he waited. But even ten minutes after he'd sent the message, he hadn't gotten an alert that Eren had even seen it. He was being impatient, he knew—Eren could be doing anything—but he wanted him to see it.

Maybe he even  _needed_  him to.

_Levi to Eren – Eren…_

Fifteen more minutes and still nothing.

_Levi to Eren – Eren, please._

He stood, staring at his phone, for twenty minutes. Yet still, not a word. Eren hadn't even seen any of it.

Supposing he was busy and that there was nothing to be done about it, Levi shoved his phone into his pocket before pushing himself off the wall. Deciding he'd continue to ignore his fingernail for the time being, he returned to the bathroom.

Maybe it couldn't wait to be fully cleaned.

By the time he was done, it was nearing ten in the evening. The bathroom was spotless, his skin was red from the effort, and Eren still hadn't seen his texts.

And so, he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed the chapter :DDDDD I know we're right on the brink, but I have some bad news. It's the end of my college semester and the next two weeks are going to be really, really busy with exams and final projects (I'm already behind /cry), so I don't know when I'll be able to update again. Might be next week, might not be till after exams--just depends on how things go. 
> 
> But please, please, please, leave reviews. I need them, haha--they might be what gets me through the next two weeks XD
> 
> EDIT: So, I'm kind of surprised at how harsh the reviews have been about Levi, so I'll post the same note I had on FF.net and see if it makes a difference on how people view Levi :( I feel bad for him, lol. 
> 
> "Look at that characterization. Mmm, I feel like this chapter is the pinnacle reveal of what I've been subtlety doing with Levi's character the whole time. We finally get to see his mental illness directly, which we haven't before. But there have been hints of it—cleaning the office, his strict schedule, obsessive tendencies, etc. Anybody else notice these things? Poor Levi :(
> 
> ALSO! POP QUIZ! What does the fact that we were all upset at Levi potentially using Eren, despite everything he's done for the kid otherwise, say about how we perceive people when sex is involved?
> 
> Entire class "OHHHHHHHHHHHH"
> 
> Honestly, I'm just playin.' But I do think it's kind of interesting that so many of us were afraid Levi was going to be swayed by his lust for the Rogue Mask instead of his value for his and Eren's friendship. Like, what does that tell us about society's views of men in general? There's that old "boys will be boys" mentality that we're all guilty of indulging in (myself included). But, really, I don't think Levi would ever do something so horrible, even in canon. Like, he cares way too much, even if he doesn't show it very often. Yet, still, men are plagued by this idea that they listen to their dicks instead of their brains, and I think that's a huge contributing factor to the rape culture we live in. WE MUST FIGHT THESE MISCONCEPTIONS! *Continues with feminist rant while everyone that even got this far in the note finally quits reading.*"
> 
> So, that was the more, ah, opinionated note I had on FF.net. It's just so interesting to me that so many people have villainized Levi despite the fact that he hasn't done anything inherently wrong. I mean, I kind of understand how people got to that point, but I'd really be interested to discuss the topic, if anyone gets this far in the note, lol.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr - SKayLanphear
> 
> And leave reviews if you can ^-^


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